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I was silent: I thought he mocked me。
“e; Jane—e hither。”
“Your bride stands between us。”
He rose; and with a stride reached me。
“My bride is here;” he said; again drawing me to him; “because my equal is here; and my likeness。 Jane; will you marry me?”
Still I did not answer; and still I writhed myself from his grasp: for I was still incredulous。
“Do you doubt me; Jane?”
“Entirely。”
“You have no faith in me?”
“Not a whit。”
“Am I a liar in your eyes?” he asked passionately。 “Little sceptic; you shall be convinced。 What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that you know。 What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains to prove: I caused a rumour to reach her that my fortune was not a third of what was supposed; and after that I presented myself to see the result; it was coldness both from her and her mother。 I would not—I could not—marry Miss Ingram。 You— you strange; you almost unearthly thing!—I love as my own flesh。 You—poor and obscure; and small and plain as you are—I entreat to accept me as a husband。”
“What; me!” I ejaculated; beginning in his earnestness—and especially in his incivility—to credit his sincerity: “me who have not a friend in the world but you… if you are my friend: not a shilling but what you have given me?”
“You; Jane; I must have you for my own—entirely my own。 Will you be mine? Say yes; quickly。”
“Mr。 Rochester; let me look at your face: turn to the moonlight。”
“Why?”
“Because I want to read your countenance—turn!”
“There! you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled; scratched page。 Read on: only make haste; for I suffer。”
His face was very much agitated and very much flushed; and there were strong workings
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