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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 357/445
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By
this
time
he
had
sat
down
:
he
had
laid
the
picture
on
the
table
before
him
,
and
with
his
brow
supported
on
both
hands
,
hung
fondly
over
it
.
I
discerned
he
was
now
neither
angry
nor
shocked
at
my
audacity
.
I
saw
even
that
to
be
thus
frankly
addressed
on
a
subject
he
had
deemed
unapproachable
--
to
hear
it
thus
freely
handled
--
was
beginning
to
be
felt
by
him
as
a
new
pleasure
--
an
unhoped-for
relief
.
Reserved
people
often
really
need
the
frank
discussion
of
their
sentiments
and
griefs
more
than
the
expansive
.
The
sternest-seeming
stoic
is
human
after
all
;
and
to
"
burst
"
with
boldness
and
good-will
into
"
the
silent
sea
"
of
their
souls
is
often
to
confer
on
them
the
first
of
obligations
.
"
She
likes
you
,
I
am
sure
,
"
said
I
,
as
I
stood
behind
his
chair
,
"
and
her
father
respects
you
.
Moreover
,
she
is
a
sweet
girl
--
rather
thoughtless
;
but
you
would
have
sufficient
thought
for
both
yourself
and
her
.
You
ought
to
marry
her
.
"
"
Does
she
like
me
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Certainly
;
better
than
she
likes
any
one
else
.
She
talks
of
you
continually
:
there
is
no
subject
she
enjoys
so
much
or
touches
upon
so
often
.
"
"
It
is
very
pleasant
to
hear
this
,
"
he
said
--
"
very
:
go
on
for
another
quarter
of
an
hour
.
"
And
he
actually
took
out
his
watch
and
laid
it
upon
the
table
to
measure
the
time
.
"
But
where
is
the
use
of
going
on
,
"
I
asked
,
"
when
you
are
probably
preparing
some
iron
blow
of
contradiction
,
or
forging
a
fresh
chain
to
fetter
your
heart
?
"
"
Do
n't
imagine
such
hard
things
.
Fancy
me
yielding
and
melting
,
as
I
am
doing
:
human
love
rising
like
a
freshly
opened
fountain
in
my
mind
and
overflowing
with
sweet
inundation
all
the
field
I
have
so
carefully
and
with
such
labour
prepared
--
so
assiduously
sown
with
the
seeds
of
good
intentions
,
of
self-denying
plans
.
And
now
it
is
deluged
with
a
nectarous
flood
--
the
young
germs
swamped
--
delicious
poison
cankering
them
:
now
I
see
myself
stretched
on
an
ottoman
in
the
drawing-room
at
Vale
Hall
at
my
bride
Rosamond
Oliver
's
feet
:
she
is
talking
to
me
with
her
sweet
voice
--
gazing
down
on
me
with
those
eyes
your
skilful
hand
has
copied
so
well
--
smiling
at
me
with
these
coral
lips
.
She
is
mine
--
I
am
hers
--
this
present
life
and
passing
world
suffice
to
me
.
Hush
!
say
nothing
--
my
heart
is
full
of
delight
--
my
senses
are
entranced
--
let
the
time
I
marked
pass
in
peace
.
"
I
humoured
him
:
the
watch
ticked
on
:
he
breathed
fast
and
low
:
I
stood
silent
.
Amidst
this
hush
the
quartet
sped
;
he
replaced
the
watch
,
laid
the
picture
down
,
rose
,
and
stood
on
the
hearth
.
