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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte


265

feared Adele never would have a governess to stay if she knew
with what inmate she was housed, and my plans would not permit
me to remove the maniac elsewhere-though I possess an old
house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired and hidden than this,
where I could have lodged her safely enough, had not a scruple
about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood,
made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. Probably those
damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge:but to each
villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect
assassination, even of what I most hate.

‘Concealing the mad-woman’s neighbourhood from you, however,
was something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it
down near a upas-tree: that demon’s vicinage is poisoned, and
always was. But I’ll shut up Thornfield Hall:I’ll nail up the front
door and board the lower windows: I’ll give Mrs. Poole two
hundred a year to live here with my wife, as you term that fearful
hag: Grace will do much for money, and she shall have her son, the
keeper at Grimsby Retreat, to bear her company and be at hand to
give her aid in the paroxysms, when my wife is prompted by her
familiar to burn people in their beds at night, to stab them, to bite
their flesh from their bones, and so on-’ ‘Sir,’ I interrupted him,
‘you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her
with hate-with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel-she cannot help
being mad.’ ‘Jane, my little darling (so I will call you, for so you
are), you don’t know what you are talking about; you misjudge me
again: it is not because she is mad I hate her. If you were mad, do
you think I should hate you?’ ‘I do indeed, sir.’ ‘Then you are
mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the
sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as
dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.
Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my
treasure still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a
strait waistcoat-your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for
me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, I
should receive you in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be
restrictive. I should not shrink from you with disgust as I did from
her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no
nurse but me; and I could hang over you with untiring tenderness,
though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing
into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of recognition for
me.- But why do I follow that train of ideas? I was talking of
removing you from Thornfield. All, you know, is prepared for
prompt departure: to-morrow you shall go. I only ask you to
endure one more night under this roof, Jane; and then, farewell to
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