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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 371/445
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"
And
I
am
a
hard
woman
,
--
impossible
to
put
off
.
"
"
And
then
,
"
he
pursued
,
"
I
am
cold
:
no
fervour
infects
me
.
"
"
Whereas
I
am
hot
,
and
fire
dissolves
ice
.
The
blaze
there
has
thawed
all
the
snow
from
your
cloak
;
by
the
same
token
,
it
has
streamed
on
to
my
floor
,
and
made
it
like
a
trampled
street
.
As
you
hope
ever
to
be
forgiven
,
Mr.
Rivers
,
the
high
crime
and
misdemeanour
of
spoiling
a
sanded
kitchen
,
tell
me
what
I
wish
to
know
.
"
"
Well
,
then
,
"
he
said
,
"
I
yield
;
if
not
to
your
earnestness
,
to
your
perseverance
:
as
stone
is
worn
by
continual
dropping
.
Besides
,
you
must
know
some
day
,
--
as
well
now
as
later
.
Your
name
is
Jane
Eyre
?
"
"
Of
course
:
that
was
all
settled
before
.
"
"
You
are
not
,
perhaps
,
aware
that
I
am
your
namesake
?
--
that
I
was
christened
St.
John
Eyre
Rivers
?
"
"
No
,
indeed
!
I
remember
now
seeing
the
letter
E.
comprised
in
your
initials
written
in
books
you
have
at
different
times
lent
me
;
but
I
never
asked
for
what
name
it
stood
.
But
what
then
?
Surely
--
"
I
stopped
:
I
could
not
trust
myself
to
entertain
,
much
less
to
express
,
the
thought
that
rushed
upon
me
--
that
embodied
itself
,
--
that
,
in
a
second
,
stood
out
a
strong
,
solid
probability
.
Circumstances
knit
themselves
,
fitted
themselves
,
shot
into
order
:
the
chain
that
had
been
lying
hitherto
a
formless
lump
of
links
was
drawn
out
straight
,
--
every
ring
was
perfect
,
the
connection
complete
.
I
knew
,
by
instinct
,
how
the
matter
stood
,
before
St.
John
had
said
another
word
;
but
I
can
not
expect
the
reader
to
have
the
same
intuitive
perception
,
so
I
must
repeat
his
explanation
.
"
My
mother
's
name
was
Eyre
;
she
had
two
brothers
;
one
a
clergyman
,
who
married
Miss
Jane
Reed
,
of
Gateshead
;
the
other
,
John
Eyre
,
Esq.
,
merchant
,
late
of
Funchal
,
Madeira
.
Mr.
Briggs
,
being
Mr.
Eyre
's
solicitor
,
wrote
to
us
last
August
to
inform
us
of
our
uncle
's
death
,
and
to
say
that
he
had
left
his
property
to
his
brother
the
clergyman
's
orphan
daughter
,
overlooking
us
,
in
consequence
of
a
quarrel
,
never
forgiven
,
between
him
and
my
father
.
He
wrote
again
a
few
weeks
since
,
to
intimate
that
the
heiress
was
lost
,
and
asking
if
we
knew
anything
of
her
.
A
name
casually
written
on
a
slip
of
paper
has
enabled
me
to
find
her
out
.
You
know
the
rest
.
"
Again
he
was
going
,
but
I
set
my
back
against
the
door
.
