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“And since I cannot do it; Jane; it must have been unreal。”
“But; sir; when I said so to myself on rising this morning; and when I looked round the room to gather courage and fort from the cheerful aspect of each familiar object in full daylight; there—on the carpet—I saw what gave the distinct lie to my hypothesis;—the veil; torn from top to bottom in two halves!”
I felt Mr。 Rochester start and shudder; he hastily flung his arms round me。 “Thank God!” he exclaimed; “that if anything malignant did e near you last night; it was only the veil that was harmed。 Oh; to think what might have happened!”
He drew his breath short; and strained me so close to him; I could scarcely pant。 After some minutes’ silence; he continued; cheerily—
“Now; Ja; I’ll explain to you all about it。 It was half dream; half reality。 A woman did; I doubt not; enter your room: and that woman was—must have been—Grace Poole。 You call her a strange being yourself: from all you know; you have reason so to call her— what did she do to me? what to Mason? In a state between sleeping and waking; you noticed her entrance and her actions; but feverish; almost delirious as you were; you ascribed to her a goblin appearance different from her own: the long dishevelled hair; the swelled black face; the exaggerated stature; were figments of imagination; results of nightmare: the spiteful tearing of the veil was real: and it is like her。 I see you would ask why I keep such a woman in my house: when we have been married a year and a day; I will tell you; but not now。 Are you satisfied; Jane? Do you accept my solution of the mystery?”
I reflected; and in truth it appeared to me the only possible one: satisfied I was not; but to please him I endeavoured to appear so— relieved; I c