第7部分(第5/8 頁)

sed　her　features。　In　my　hand　I　held　the　tract　containing　the　sudden　death　of　the　Liar；　to　which　narrative　my　attention　had　been　pointed　as　to　an　appropriate　warning。　What　had　just　passed；　what　Mrs。　Reed　had　said　concerning　me　to　Mr。　Brocklehurst；　the　whole　tenor　of　their　conversation；　was　recent；　raw；　and　stinging　in　my　mind；　I　had　felt　every　word　as　acutely　as　I　had　heard　it　plainly；　and　a　passion　of　resentment　fomented　now　within　me。

Mrs。　Reed　looked　up　from　her　work；　her　eye　settled　on　mine；　her　fingers　at　the　same　time　suspended　their　nimble　movements。

“Go　out　of　the　room；　return　to　the　nursery；”　was　her　mandate。　My　look　or　something　else　must　have　struck　her　as　offensive；　for　she　spoke　with　extreme　though　suppressed　irritation。　I　got　up；　I　went　to　the　door；　I　came　back　again；　I　walked　to　the　window；　across　the　room；　then　close　up　to　her。

Speak　I　must：　I　had　been　trodden　on　severely；　and　must　turn：　but　how？　What　strength　had　I　to　dart　retaliation　at　my　antagonist？　I　gathered　my　energies　and　launched　them　in　this　blunt　sentence—

“I　am　not　deceitful：　if　I　were；　I　should　say　I　loved　you；　but　I　declare　I　do　not　love　you：　I　dislike　you　the　worst　of　anybody　in　the　world　except　John　Reed；　and　this　book　about　the　liar；　you　may　give　to　your　girl；　Georgiana；　for　it　is　she　who　tells　lies；　and　not　I。”

Mrs。　Reed’s　hands　still　lay　on　her　work　inactive：　her　eye　of　ice　continued　to　dwell　freezingly　on　mine。

“What　more　have　you　to　say？”　she　asked；