No |
Á¦ ¸ñ |
ÀÌ ¸§ |
Á¶È¸¼ö |
ÀÔ·ÂÀϽà |
1913 |
ÀÎÅͳÝÄ«Áö³ë»çÀÌÆ® |
xcvcb99 |
11 |
2019-05-28 21:11 |
³» ¿ë |
ÀÎÅͳÝÄ«Áö³ë»çÀÌÆ®
In that sense I do feel apprehensive?I have no wish to talk nonsense.
The last time, Jane! What! do you think you can live with me, and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?
xoÄ«Áö³ë
My pulse stopped: my heart stood still; my stretched arm was paralysed. The cry died, and was not renewed. Indeed, whatever being uttered that fearful shriek could not soon repeat it: not the widest-winged condor on the Andes could, twice in succession, send out such a yell from the cloud shrouding his eyrie. The thing delivering such utterance must rest ere it could repeat the effort.
Ä«Áö³ë»çÀÌÆ®
Ä«Áö³ë»çÀÌÆ®
¹ÙÄ«¶ó»çÀÌÆ®
So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows.
She conducted me to her own chair, and then began to remove my shawl and untie my bonnet-strings; I begged she would not give herself so much trouble.
Ä«Áö³ë»çÀÌÆ®
It is, said St. John.
I like this day; I like that sky of steel; I like the sternness and stillness of the world under this frost. I like Thornfield, its antiquity, its retirement, its old crow-trees and thorn-trees, its grey fa?ade, and lines of dark windows reflecting that metal welkin: and yet how long have I abhorred the very thought of it, shunned it like a great plague-house? How I do still abhor?
It¡¯s her, I am sure!?I could have told her anywhere! cried the individual who stopped my progress and took my hand.
A clock in the schoolroom struck nine; Miss Miller left her circle, and standing in the middle of the room, cried?
¶óÀ̺êÄ«Áö³ëÁ¦ÀÛ
½Ç½Ã°£Ä«Áö³ë
¿Â¶óÀιÙÄ«¶ó¸ÔÆ¢
¶óÀ̺ê¹ÙÄ«¶ó»çÀÌÆ®
Not even if they were kind to you?
The night passed rapidly. I was too tired even to dream; I only once awoke to hear the wind rave in furious gusts, and the rain fall in torrents, and to be sensible that Miss Miller had taken her place by my side. When I again unclosed my eyes, a loud bell was ringing; the girls were up and dressing; day had not yet begun to dawn, and a rushlight or two burned in the room. I too rose reluctantly; it was bitter cold, and I dressed as well as I could for shivering, and washed when there was a basin at liberty, which did not occur soon, as there was but one basin to six girls, on the stands down the middle of the room. Again the bell rang: all formed in file, two and two, and in that order descended the stairs and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom: here prayers were read by Miss Miller; afterwards she called out?
¿¹½ºÄ«Áö³ë
It is, to be sure; and when you get to Bitternutt Lodge, Connaught, Ireland, I shall never see you again, Jane: that¡¯s morally certain. I never go over to Ireland, not having myself much of a fancy for the country. We have been good friends, Jane; have we not?
¿¹½ºÄ«Áö³ë
|
|
|