"You ought to have replied no such thing. Beauty of little consequence, indeed! And so, under pretence of softening the previous outrage, of stroking and soothing me into placidity, you stick a sly penknife under my ear! Go on: what fault do you find with me, pray? I suppose I have all my limbs and all my features like any other man?"

     "Mr. Rochester, allow me to disown my first answer: I intended no pointed repartee: it was only a blunder."

     "Just so: I think so: and you shall be answerable for it. Criticise me: does my forehead not please you?"

     He lifted up the sable waves of hair which lay horizontally over his brow, and showed a solid enough mass of intellectual organs, but an abrupt deficiency where the suave sign of benevolence should have risen.

     "Now, ma'am, am I a fool?"

     "Far from it, sir. You would, perhaps, think me rude if I inquired in return whether you are a philanthropist?"