[Comprehensive Classics] Traveled all over Europe to demolish CP

Chapter30 This is a chapter where you live and die!

The confrontation between the governess and Miss Blanche, as well as the extremely perfect four-hand play between the two, made Jane the "goddess" in the hearts of young gentlemen.

When the young man warmly invited Jane to play cards together, the governess waved her hands again and again, and politely declined, saying: "People like me who lose no matter what cards they play, possess the courage to constantly pursue the wisdom of playing cards... And an ability that can't be pursued no matter what."

In a word, their bet is too high!

As for poor Miss Blanche Ingram...

After torturing her for a piece of music, Jane stood up gracefully and humbly—molesting the cool, handsome, domineering queen is a difficult and dangerous action, and moderate use can help increase interest^Excessive The stimulation is worth the candle.

Miss Ingram, who was finally able to monopolize the piano and Mr. Rochester, would not allow herself to admit that she was relieved.

She spread out her snow-white long skirt magnificently, and became even more arrogant.She must not be outmatched by a lowly governess, she must impress, she must display her chicness and audacity.

Miss Ingram was tinkling on the piano while shouting how unmanly men are nowadays...

With pity, Jane lit a candle for the fair-faced and handsome young men whose knees were sieves under the same roof.

After the duet of the mellow and beautiful female voice and the deep and sonorous male voice, Jane was unanimously recommended by the men to play another song.

Amy Tofu, Miss Blanche, I hope you don't hold me against me for this.

She sat down slowly, and a few flexible and gentle notes jumped into the ears of all present.

Moonriver, widerthanamile

Moon River is more than a mile away

I'm crossing youinstylesomeday

meet you one day

Oh, dreammaker, your heartbreaker

Oh dream weaver, heartbreaker

Wherever yoing, I'm going your way

Wherever you go, I'm with you

Twodrifters, off to see the world

Two wanderers, to see the world

There's such a lot of world to see

The world is colorful and bright, dizzying

We're after the same rainbow'send,

We are all chasing the same dream

waiting round the bend

waiting at the bend

Myhuckleberry friend, Moon River, and me

my lovely friend, moon river, and i

The young girl has long and thick eyelashes, and her blue eyes are hazy, dreamy, longing and sad, and she is immersed in crooning and singing wholeheartedly.

She didn't show off her skills at all, whether it was singing voice or piano skills.Jane just sang softly and delicately, and her melodious and low-pitched singing voice undulated gently, confiding in a soft voice, soul-stirring.

She hibernates in a corner of the ancient manor, accumulating capital and strength, looking for opportunities to continue roaming the world, and waiting for the next time to set off.

After singing the song "Moon River", Jane walked out of the living room and walked through the narrow corridor to go back to the house.

A hand behind her grabbed her arm: "Jane!"

Nima, this old castle is already eerie enough, don't you want to act like Piao to be scary again, okay, Mr. Rochester?

"Sorry, sir, for offending your guest today..."

"Well done." The host interrupted her neatly, "I'm glad someone can rub Miss Ingram's spirit, Jane."

Mr. Rochester's expression seemed to be less cold and serious than usual. People really lived in groups. Living alone in a huge house, they were either moldy or depressed.

"Adele is a very good boy, sir." Jane racked her brains for a long discourse on the matter, but was interrupted for the second time this evening.

"I think it's time for you to go back to bed. It's past bedtime for Adele." Mr. Rochester said with a look that puzzled her. "You must know that as long as the guests stay here, I hope you Show up in the living room at night. This is my wish, don't ignore it, go now and call Sophia to take Adele away. Good night, my—" He stopped, bit his lip, turned abruptly and left .

... Is Mr. Rochester having a quarrel?

How charming Mr. Darcy is in comparison!A good heart, a gentleman, harmless arrogance!

Mr. Rochester is completely different. He is a gentleman but not a typical British gentleman. He has too complicated experiences, too strong will, too weird character, too flexible mind, and unstable temper.

If Mr Darcy is an expensive steak, Mr Rochester is a curry with a tangy, spicy sauce.

In a few weeks, I must take leave and go home...

I hope that Mr. Darcy is no longer so Rochester-like.

The arrival of the guests injected joy, bustle and vitality into the ancient Thornfield.Everywhere is bustling with people coming and going all day long.In the past, the quiet doorway and the front room with no residents, now you will encounter beautiful maids or gorgeously dressed servants as soon as you walk in.

Except for the change in the style of clothing, everything here is the same as Rosings and Pemberley, including the rare sunny days when everyone flocks out, while the continuous rain blocks everyone

When indoors, various recreational activities emerge in endlessly.

In the charade game, the performances of Mr. Rochester and Miss Ingram were missing, which made Jane, who was looking forward to a good show, very disappointed.

Jane had to chat with the young men who surrounded her.

The next evening Jane learned from Mrs. Fairfax that the master did not require her to stay in the dining-room.

Moody, changing from day to day, the most confusing!

Fortunately, this instruction returned her free time.

"La Traviata" is almost finished.

What happened next confused Jane even more: she would always run into Mr. Rochester, who became more and more lively and cheerful, less bitter and bitter, and turned ridicule into ridicule and then into joke at any time and place.

The dining room, the living room, the library, the nursery, the corridor, the garden, the green path... His expression is getting gentler every day, and his smile is getting kinder every day...

Jane was startled.

Nima, is this Mr. Bingley possessed? !It's too inconsistent! ! !

In the past few days, the air has been filled with the haze and smell of fog. In the evening, the bright red sun appeared on the undulating horizon, like an overly mellow orange hanging in the lower layer of clouds.

After dinner, Jane wrote the last part of "La Traviata" under the candlelight whose brightness is far lower than that of incandescent lamps and energy-saving lamps in the future.

The curtains are drawn, and if you are tired from writing, you can stand in front of the window and look out at the silver garden and fields, relaxing your high-speed brain and highly tense nerves.

Before the sun sets, the moon is a translucent cloud floc.As Apollo's carriage got farther and farther away, and Diana's silver chariot gradually rose, the moonlight became more and more intense, turning into the orange of an incandescent lamp.

The moonlight is getting brighter and the shadows it casts are getting deeper and deeper.Diana drove the carriage along her own track, came to the sky opposite Jane's window, and peeped at her through the unobstructed window glass.

At this time, the tranquility and comfort of the night were broken by a manic and ear-piercing scream that resounded through Thornfield House.

...It turns out that the plot has progressed to "my brother-in-law visits my sister late at night, and the crazy woman bites someone".

For poor Mr. Mason and poor Mrs. Rochester on the third floor above, light a candle to light up the night.

Jane wrapped herself tightly with a shawl, and walked outside with a candle.

Sure enough, the whole house was in chaos, as if the end of the world was coming and zombies besieged the city.

Then, Mr. Edward the Redeemer Rochester came, and with all his coaxing, coaxing, and threats, he managed to get all the people into their respective rooms again, and shut the doors behind them.

Jane lay on the bed to recharge her batteries. An hour later, she heard a discreet knock on the door as expected.

"Do you want me to help?" Jane extinguished the candle and opened the wooden door.

"You didn't sleep?" Mr. Rochester firmly controlled his voice and the fierce light in his black eyes.

"Correct, sir."

"And with clothes on?"

"Do you expect me to be naked, sir?"

"...Then come out, be gentle." He was holding a lamp, and the dim yellow light reflected the ghostly look on his face.

Boom... It's much more terrifying than a crazy woman's scream!

"Need anything, sir?"

"Things... by the way, do you have sponges and bromine salt in your room? If you have them, take them both."

"Yes, sir."

Wearing thin-soled slippers, she walked lightly and briskly on the carpeted floor, like an alert cat ready to show its claws at any time.

They went up the stairs cautiously, and stopped in the dark and low corridor on the third floor.

Mr. Rochester took out the key and asked in a low voice, "You don't feel sick when you see blood, do you?" His voice was very close, and his lips almost touched Jane's ear.

She took a step back subconsciously, avoiding the heavy and enthusiastic breathing of the male master—like a small beast leaving the territory of other animals, she showed her eight teeth and said with a smile as bright as the morning glow: "Witches don't get bloodsick, sir. .”

"..." Mr. Rochester shrank.

They entered the room and walked towards the motionless man in the easy chair.

Mr. Rochester raised the lamp over his head, and Jane saw a pale and bloodless face.

He is about the same age as Mr. Rochester, but he is much better-looking than Thornfield's male master—in Jane's aesthetic eyes.

His smooth oval face is very delicate, and his tall hooked nose and small mouth match the cuteness of a sick and beautiful uncle.Mr. Mason's eyes were closed, one arm was soaked in blood, and he was curled up in the easy chair, looking extremely vulnerable and helpless.

Jane's desire for protection was fully activated, and she took the initiative to put the bromine salt bottle under his pointed nose, and after a while, a pair of brown, sheep-like weak and docile eyes slowly opened.

"Are you the angel Gabriel?" Mr. Mason murmured.

Jane chuckled, and said in a serious tone: "Heaven will not take you in, Mr. Mason, this is the witch who brought you back to life."

Mr. Rochester: "..." His sense of existence is gone...

Mr. Mason: "..." He must have been deeply ridiculed...

"Don't use a sponge to soak up the blood that comes out, Mr. Rochester, otherwise the blood will continue to flow." With a sting, Jane tore off a piece of white linen sheet, and along with it, tore up the remaining integrity, The queen gave orders to the host with full aura, "I'm sorry, sir, I need to bandage this gentleman to stop the bleeding, please go to a doctor."

Mr. Rochester: "..." The speed at which Ms. Witch entered the "anti-client-oriented" mode is too fast, right?

What was supposed to be a miserable and eerie adventure in the cabin, was suddenly broken by Jane into a world-class masterpiece "How Morality Was Broken"!

"Before you call the doctor, please pass me a pair of scissors."

Mr. Rochester: "..." I'd better get out of here quickly...

Mr. Mason: "..." I'd better die early and be reborn sooner...

Jane brandished a pair of large scissors, grinning grinningly and approaching the huddled, trembling, immobile Uncle Mason Mei... Before Uncle Mei "beeped", before Mr. Rochester closed his eyes and couldn't bear to look directly, he was clean, neat, He cut open his blood-soaked and sticky sleeve in one go.

The wound was horrifying, the flesh turned outward, and the dark blood continued to flow out slowly...

"You're only bleeding from a vein, sir, don't worry, God, the old man won't want to see you for at least 40 years."

Mr. Mason was too frightened to speak.He bit his lips like a wronged Adele, his big watery brown eyes blinked, as if tears would fall in the next second.

Seems pretty cute...

Jane found the throbbing blood vessel above the wound, and pressed her fingers firmly.Then, the sheet that was torn off to serve as a tourniquet was tied tightly on top, and the blood stopped flowing.

Mr. Rochester, who originally wanted to threaten the underground brother-in-law "Don't talk to Miss Bennet anyway, or your life will be in danger", gave up the idea of ​​threatening, and then left the room.

In Mr. Rochester's back, there was a sense of cold wind and bleak, dumbfounding, Jane swore.

An hour later, Jane removed the tourniquet.

Mr. Mason asked weakly: "What are you doing, miss? I'm bleeding again..."

"Soothe tendons and activate blood circulation, sir, if you don't loosen the bandage regularly, your arm may be useless."

Jane was sure that she saw Mr. Mason tremble heavily, his eyes were dazed with fright, and then he didn't dare to speak out, and dared not ask anything.

...I seem to be demonized...

In the spirit of humanitarianism, Jane decided to say something casually to this beautiful uncle with a gray face, in case he was too nervous and incontinent—that would be too unbeautiful.

"Are you from the tropics, sir?"

"Yes... yes, Spanish Town."

"Do people there have the same brown skin as you? Is it extremely hot all year round, and the trees are evergreen? What fruits and foods are abundant in Spanish City?"

Mr. Mason answered very timidly at first, but gradually he started to talk, and he put all his worries about injuries and fear of witches behind him.

After 10 minutes, they were familiar enough to call each other by their Christian names.

An hour later, Jane reached a consensus with this increasingly dying wealthy businessman: In order to express his gratitude for her life-saving grace, Mr. Mason agreed to allow Jane to visit the plantation in the West Indies—the plantation under Mason’s name , she can live as long as she likes, and she is welcome to participate in the investment - any amount is welcome, even a pound is extremely welcome.

When Mr. Rochester led the surgeon Carter back to this small dim room at dawn, he found that the governess had a very happy conversation with the unfortunate guest, reluctant to leave...

Mr. Rochester deeply felt that the way to open this room was incorrect, or he simply walked through the wrong door.

"Hey, my good guy, how is it?" He resisted the urge to go out and turn left.

"I had a very pleasant chat with Miss Bennet, Edward, and we hit it off very well." That was the weak reply of the other party.

Mr. Rochester: "..." He must be sent away within half an hour!

Dr. Carter: "..." I seem to have lost my usefulness, that's how it looks.

After the wound was treated and bandaged (Dr. Carter kept admiring the professionalism of the governess), and dressed, Mr. Rochester forcibly separated a man and a woman who were still reluctant to part with each other, and stuffed Mr. Mason into the carriage like a falcon holding a sparrow in its mouth. inside.

"Leave his window open, Carter, there's no wind—good-bye, Richard."

"Fairfax—"

"What's the matter?" Mr. Rochester said with suppressed impatience.

"Take care of her, treat her as gently as possible, let her—" he said timidly, and then couldn't go on.

"Do as much as I can - I've done it and I'll do it again." He slammed the door shut.

The carriage drove away, and Mr. Mason poked his head out of the window, waved desperately at Jane and said, "I will recover soon, Jane! I will write to you when the time comes, please come to Spain City as a guest!"

Mr. Rochester: "..." If he continues to gnash his teeth like this, he will lose all his teeth before the age of 40.

When the carriage, Mason and the earnest invitation of "be sure to come to Spain City" all disappeared in the rose-colored light of the morning, Mr. Rochester finally took a deep breath and said, "God bless, it's all over at last!"

He walked slowly and absent-mindedly towards the wall door bordering the orchard.

Jane was about to sneak back to the house, when the lingering voice sounded from behind again: "Jane!"

Your Jane is not here, Mr. Rochester!

"Come, stay here for a while in the fresh air," said he. "This house is but a prison, don't you think so?"

"For me, this is a rare safe haven. It provides me with a warm room, a soft bed, delicious meals, and a man of noble character."

Mr. Rochester smiled slightly, his absent-minded appearance disappeared, and he became full of energy and vitality again—even if he stayed up all night.

He wandered along a path, and Jane had to follow him.

On one side of the path were boxwoods, apples, pears, and cherries; Assorted herbs.

The continuous sunny and rainy weather in April, followed by the bright spring mornings, make these flowers and plants very colorful.The sun was coming into the dappled east, and the sun shone on the dewy fruit trees with their flowery branches, and illuminated the quiet path under the trees.

"Jane, would I have a flower for you?"

He plucked the first rose on the branch and pinned it in Jane's thick blond hair.

"This color is not suitable." He carefully took off the rose and replaced it with a dark blue violet, took a step back and looked at Jane carefully, and finally nodded in satisfaction.

In Jane's heart, the alpaca galloped past, its hair disheveled in the howling cold wind.

"Thank you, sir." In fact, she wanted to touch Mr. Rochester's broad forehead and tell him to remember to take his medicine.

"You've had a strange evening, Jane."

"It was a pleasant evening, Mr. Rochester, and I am very glad to have made Richard... Mr. Richard Mason is such a gentle friend. I may ask you for leave after a while, sir."

"Richard invited you to visit Spanish Town?" There was a strange trill in his voice.

"Yes, sir."

"Damn it! If you must be thinking of Spanish Town, I can take you there—I mean, when I take Adele, I should take my governess with me."

"That's really good."

Mr. Rochester was silent for a while, and he asked quietly: "Why don't you ask? Why don't you have doubts? Why don't you ask me for an answer?"

"Why should I ask? Why should I be confused? Why should I ask you for an answer?" Jane tilted her head, and the rosy rosy clouds coated her translucent skin with a charming blush, "Everyone has secrets, and secrets It should be respected. If you think I should know, then naturally tell me; if it is not my right to know, then there is no point in asking."

He seized Jane's hand, and flung it off again in one swift motion.

"Do you think the guilty will be redeemed?" the host suddenly asked seriously.

Jane cast a look of "watching the child talking big" on the male master's weak and hideous face due to entanglement and struggle, and said weakly: "Guilty man! Mr. Rochester, you think too highly of yourself You don’t kill people, set fires, or seek wealth and life, but you insist on calling yourself a “guilty person”? It would be more accurate to say that you are “young and ignorant”!”

Mr. Rochester had a mouthful of blood stuck in his throat.

He should have thought a long time ago that the young woman in front of him, who was more pure and beautiful than an angel, was essentially a witch, not a priest!

Trying to confess to a witch or something is simply wishful thinking...

"While you don't need the sympathy of others, I do sympathize with your pain, though you overestimate your own. Sir, who hasn't made a mistake in his youth? Three years ago I left with a hundred pounds Facts have proved that this decision is really stupid, but don’t I live happily as usual now?” Jane’s crooked lips hung a touch of good-natured mockery, mocking herself and him, “As you yourself It is claimed that you have a depraved life, but I firmly believe that your soul is not depraved, otherwise you would not be tortured by your conscience."

"My soul!" Mr. Rochester exclaimed, with a look of pain pressing on his stern face, "Yes, this soul has always yearned for beauty, purity, kindness and light, but the pursuit of beauty has gone further and further away. , is really a tragedy like "Hamlet"!"

Jane couldn't bear to watch Mr. Rochester dissect his bitter inner world anymore, and decided to provide a few ounces of positive energy.

"You haven't actually experienced the greatest pain in your life, sir." She dug a hole.

"If you refuse to give examples, your consolation will be unconvincing," said Mr. Rochester weakly.

"The greatest pain in life is to realize that your own pain is worthless." Jane's sharp and vigilant eyes relaxed and emptied, as if immersed in the gloomy ghosts of the past like her master, "I don't want to comfort You, sir, because even if your heart hurts, it doesn't matter to others, or laugh it off. They may hug you, comfort you, encourage you, but you still have to toss and turn or wear out late at night, I lick my wounds, try to lighten the burden on my heart, smooth the sadness in my eyes, survive the long night, and survive the next uncertain tomorrow."

"Is there a trauma that hurts you, or a ghost that haunts you, Jane?" Mr. Rochester sighed deeply, uttering the name "Jane" for the first time.

The name was twisted and turned on the tip of his tongue, as if he wanted to spit it out and then chewed it up and swallowed it.

"Of course there is, sir." She obviously came out of the old memory, her smiling blue eyes bent into crescents, "but the wound has long been turned into a coat of arms and decoration, and the ghost has become a funny animal." A Piao who makes people laugh."

Mr. Rochester was like a balloon being poked by a needle, full of grievances and confessions, and dissipated in the air filled with candlelight with a "puchi".

"When you're in a bad mood, read gothic horror novels." Jane kindly suggested, "Thinking that I can't die so outrageously anyway, I suddenly feel better."

Mr. Rochester: "..."

Jane, you really are a witch!

"There is an old proverb in the East, sir, good luck depends on misfortune, and misfortune depends on blessing. Although you have been deceived and hurt by more than one woman, you have accumulated rich experience because of this, and you can do what you want for women. I know it like the back of my hand." Jane recalled that in the original book, he showed great courtesy to Miss Blanche, and the trick of playing hard to get was perfected, and she obviously fell in love with the governess in the dark, but forced the other party to express her love to him first.Jane smiled slightly, and continued to offer chicken soup for the soul, "Because you have experienced many different women, you can be more clear about what you want, and then you can truly understand what kind of woman is in tune with you, what kind of woman is What kind of woman is suitable for you, what kind of woman you really want, and what kind of woman can hold hands with you to spend your whole life together.

"

"Can I still be happy, Jane?" These words seemed to exhaust all the strength of Mr. Rochester.

In Jane's mind, a young girl with plain appearance and stubborn eyes emerged—Jane Eyre who worked as a governess in some house.

"You will, sir." She said decisively, "The inspiration of sleep has filled my brain, and I have to marry and fall in love with the bed. Good night, Mr. Rochester."

Taking off the host's cloak, Jane stepped on the delicate moonlight covering the corridor and disappeared at the end of a door.

She didn't see that man with tired but eager eyes watching her disappear into the night without a sound.

She also didn't see how tenderly he hugged the cloak in his arms, and pressed it lovingly to his chest and heart.

She didn't hear his painful and hasty sigh.She didn't even see how he kissed every inch of fabric that touched her shoulders, back and hands.

The night spread, everything was silent, no one heard him whisper: "Jane, Jane, Jane..."

After the late-night haunting event, it's business as usual.After a few weeks, the guests bid farewell one after another. With the ambition of "I will come again next year", Miss Blanche Ingram left in the indignation that she did not catch a rich man.

Looking at Miss Blanche's unwilling little eyes, Jane silently lit 32 candles for her in her heart.

Spring is slipping away, and the midsummer sun is shining brightly in England.

This kind of sunny and clear weather for several days can be seen everywhere in most of China before crossing, but at this moment, it has become a short-lived and precious luxury.

On the eve of John the Baptist, Adele picked wild strawberries for half a day on the Hay Village lane, and Jane made a new dessert out of them.

Adele was overfed and exhausted, and went to bed as soon as the sun went down.After Jane watched her fall asleep, she left the nursery and walked towards the garden.

Sunshine, sunshine!It turns out that the bright and dry sunshine is also a gift from creation.

It is the sweetest hour of the twenty-four hours of the twelve months of the year in the British Isles when the day has spent its fires, and the cool dew falls on panting plains and scorched hilltops.Where the sun had sunk unadornedly in the west-without the splendor of cloud-spread a majestic purple, burning ruby ​​and hearth-flame on one peak of a mountain, high and far Stretching, becoming softer and softer, it took up half the sky.

The eastern part of the sky is very different, and it also has its own charm of azure blue and soft blue and duck egg blue, and its jewel that shows off from time to time—a lone star rising.

In this refreshing, warm and peaceful moment, she forgot all the pain she had experienced and the brain twitch of running away from home without a plan. At this moment, all the pain was given meaning, and all the suffering became worthwhile.

A burst of cigar smell sneaked into the nostrils, which was particularly distinct in the fresh scent of flowers and plants. Jane knew it was Mr. Rochester without looking back.

"Jane, come and see this guy." He was looking for a moth in the flowerbed. "Look at its wings... ah, it flew away."

"Are you also attracted to the outdoors by the wonderful night when the sunset meets the moonrise, Mr. Rochester?"

"That's right, it's such a pity to sit indoors on such a lovely night! Anyway, I wouldn't want to go to sleep." He said casually, "Guests take their places, and Thornfield has finally regained its former tranquility."

"Poor Miss Blanche Ingram!" Jane could not help feeling. "Everyone can see that she wants to capture Mr. Thornfield! You have broken a young woman's heart, sir."

"Sad? No, Janet, a woman like Miss Ingram has no heart—if she does, it's in my purse."

"Eight thousand pounds a year, it's no wonder this proud lady likes you so much!" Jane smiled, her teeth glistening, "But she doesn't dislike you at all, sir, don't forget that this lady likes men like pirates Woolen cloth."

"I can't help but recall my venerable French mistress swearing that she liked the 'athlete body' look."

Self-deprecating beauty...

They chatted aimlessly for a while, and Jane decided to take the opportunity to make a request for herself: "I'm sorry, sir, but I would like to ask for a week or two off."

"What?—where are you going?"

"Go home to visit my parents and sisters, sir. This request is indeed a bit willful. As an employer, you have the right to refuse."

Mr. Rochester laughed: "The oblique words remind me of the first time I saw you, Jane. In the George Hotel, a young girl with a smile on her face cheated me out of dinner! Now you It's the same old trick, right? How long are you going back?"

"Keep it as short as possible, sir."

"Promise me only to stay for a week."

"Two weeks, sir," said Jane aggressively. "Manchester is more than two hundred miles from Hartfordshire."

"More than two hundred miles! Who will go with you? Can't you run two hundred miles alone?"

"Of course I am alone, sir, as I came."

"Absolutely not!" roared Mr. Rochester, "you didn't lose any parts in the past three years, it was pure luck! I can't let my... let my tutor take such risks again, otherwise I would be an irresponsible master. I'll arrange for someone to take you back... By the way, you have to bring some money with you, you can't go out without money. I guess you don't have much money. I haven't paid you yet."

Jane held out her hand, palm up, and said, "Then pay me half, sir. Fifteen pounds is more than enough."

He immediately took out his wallet and said, "Take it." A fifty pound note was handed to her.

"Are you going to pay one year and four months' salary in one lump sum, Mr. Rochester? Is there any possibility for me to raise my salary?"

The hostess chuckled: "You are still such a money fanatic, Jane."

"Of course I am." Jane said eloquently, "Money, as a unit of circulation, is a necessary bargaining chip for you to make demands on the society. Unless you want nothing, it is hard to imagine that you don't like money. Many people who claim that they don't love money People, either have too much money, or hate the hard work and suffering of making money."

"Why did my words of emotion lead to such a lengthy discussion?" Mr. Rochester sighed slightly. He watched Jane carefully put away the fifty-pound note—as if it was more precious than her life.

"Then you and I have to say goodbye for a while?"

"See you in two weeks, sir."

"What is the common way of saying good-bye, Jane? Show me, I'm not very good at it."

…………………… Not very good at it?

You touch your conscience, Mr. Rochester!

With an idea, Jane remembered that Mr. Rochester seemed to like the handshake in the original novel, so she extended her hand to him and said, "Then let's shake hands and say goodbye, sir."

The moment his palms touched, his other hand flicked over from his side, grasping her hand tightly and holding it tightly.

Gentle and eager, he pulled her towards him, and the distance between the two became closer and closer.

"Jane, that evening at the George Hotel, the evening you robbed me, I saw in your eyes that you would do me well."

Jane was taken aback for a moment, she subconsciously felt that something was wrong, just like a small animal's sixth sense of danger.

"I have a strange feeling about you, Jane—especially when you are so close to me as you are now. There is a string under my left side that is bound to your body inextricably. You will go, you will Two full weeks away from me, with two hundred miles of land separating us, I'm afraid the string will snap, and my heart bleed, and as for you, Miss Witch—you'll forget me."

Jane: "..." The feeling of being wrong is getting stronger and stronger!

"So, until then, I can't wait to make this thread stronger and unbreakable."

Jane: "..." No, there must be something wrong!Mr. Rochester, who confided softly, was amazing, and his sense of disobedience was off the charts!

"Your will may determine my fate, Jane, Jane!" said he; "I offer you my hand, my heart, and my share of my fortune, Jane, and I beg you to spend the rest of my life at my side."