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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
Our
uncle
John
is
dead
,
"
said
he
.
Both
the
sisters
seemed
struck
:
not
shocked
or
appalled
;
the
tidings
appeared
in
their
eyes
rather
momentous
than
afflicting
.
"
Dead
?
"
repeated
Diana
.
"
Yes
.
"
She
riveted
a
searching
gaze
on
her
brother
's
face
.
"
And
what
then
?
"
she
demanded
,
in
a
low
voice
.
"
What
then
,
Die
?
"
he
replied
,
maintaining
a
marble
immobility
of
feature
.
"
What
then
?
Why
--
nothing
.
Read
.
"
He
threw
the
letter
into
her
lap
.
She
glanced
over
it
,
and
handed
it
to
Mary
.
Mary
perused
it
in
silence
,
and
returned
it
to
her
brother
.
All
three
looked
at
each
other
,
and
all
three
smiled
--
a
dreary
,
pensive
smile
enough
.
"
Amen
!
We
can
yet
live
,
"
said
Diana
at
last
.
"
At
any
rate
,
it
makes
us
no
worse
off
than
we
were
before
,
"
remarked
Mary
.
"
Only
it
forces
rather
strongly
on
the
mind
the
picture
of
what
might
have
been
,
"
said
Mr.
Rivers
,
"
and
contrasts
it
somewhat
too
vividly
with
what
is
.
"
