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rdon for offences by me unmitted。 I looked into a certain corner near; half…expecting to see the slim outline of a once dreaded switch which used to lurk there; waiting to leap out imp…like and lace my quivering palm or shrinking neck。 I approached the bed; I opened the curtains and leant over the high…piled pillows。
Well did I remember Mrs。 Reed’s face; and I eagerly sought the familiar image。 It is a happy thing that time quells the longings of vengeance and hushes the promptings of rage and aversion。 I had left this woman in bitterness and hate; and I came back to her now with no other emotion than a sort of ruth for her great sufferings; and a strong yearning to forget and forgive all injuries—to be reconciled and clasp hands in amity。
The well…known face was there: stern; relentless as ever—there was that peculiar eye which nothing could melt; and the somewhat raised; imperious; despotic eyebrow。 How often had it lowered on me menace and hate! and how the recollection of childhood’s terrors and sorrows revived as I traced its harsh line now! And yet I stooped down and kissed her: she looked at me。
“Is this Jane Eyre?” she said。
“Yes; Aunt Reed。 How are you; dear aunt?”
I had once vowed that I would never call her aunt again: I thought it no sin to forget and break that vow now。 My fingers had fastened on her hand which lay outside the sheet: had she pressed mine kindly; I should at that moment have experienced true pleasure。 But unimpressionable natures are not so soon softened; nor are natural antipathies so readily eradicated。 Mrs。 Reed took her hand away; and; turning her face rather from me; she remarked that the night was warm。 Again she regarded me so icily; I felt at once that her opinion of me—her feeling towards me—wa