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ass by: but I shall follow the guiding of that still small voice which interprets the dictates of conscience。’
“Well said; forehead; your declaration shall be respected。 I have formed my plans—right plans I deem them—and in them I have attended to the claims of conscience; the counsels of reason。 I know how soon youth would fade and bloom perish; if; in the cup of bliss offered; but one dreg of shame; or one flavour of remorse were detected; and I do not want sacrifice; sorrow; dissolution—such is not my taste。 I wish to foster; not to blight—to earn gratitude; not to wring tears of blood—no; nor of brine: my harvest must be in smiles; in endearments; in sweet— That will do。 I think I rave in a kind of exquisite delirium。 I should wish now to protract this moment ad infinitum; but I dare not。 So far I have governed myself thoroughly。 I have acted as I inwardly swore I would act; but further might try me beyond my strength。 Rise; Miss Eyre: leave me; the play is played out’。”
Where was I? Did I wake or sleep? Had I been dreaming? Did I dream still? The old woman’s voice had changed: her accent; her gesture; and all were familiar to me as my own face in a glass—as the speech of my own tongue。 I got up; but did not go。 I looked; I stirred the fire; and I looked again: but she drew her bon and her bandage closer about her face; and again beckoned me to depart。 The flame illuminated her hand stretched out: roused now; and on the alert for discoveries; I at once notic
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