I suppose I do come on; though in what fashion I know not; being scarcely
cognisant of my movements, and solicitous only to appear calm; and, above
all, to control the working muscles of my face--which I feel rebel
insolently against my will, and struggle to express what I had resolved
to conceal. But I have a veil--it is down: I may make shift yet to
behave with decent composure.
"And this is Jane Eyre? Are you coming from Millcote, and on foot?
Yes--just one of your tricks: not to send for a carriage, and come
clattering over street and road like a common mortal, but to steal into
the vicinage of your home along with twilight, just as if you were a
dream or a shade. What the deuce have you done with yourself this last
month?"
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"I have been with my aunt, sir, who is dead."
"A true Janian reply! Good angels be my guard! She comes from the other
world--from the abode of people who are dead; and tells me so when she
meets me alone here in the gloaming! If I dared, I'd touch you, to see
if you are substance or shadow, you elf!--but I'd as soon offer to take
hold of a blue ignis fatuus light in a marsh. Truant! truant!" he
added, when he had paused an instant. "Absent from me a whole month, and
forgetting me quite, I'll be sworn!"
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