Jane Eyre, Part 16 of 34
The Sleepy Bookshelf
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'It's a Capital Error'
Imagine you are no longer a girl well reared and disciplined, but a wild boy indulged from childhood upwards. You take measures to obtain relief, unusual measures, but neither unlawful nor culpable. Your sun at noon darkens in an eclipse which you feel will not leave it till the time of setting. Bitter and base associations have become the sole food of your memory. He paused for an answer. And what was i to say, or for some good spirit to suggest judicious and satisfactory response? Vain aspiration. The west wind whispered in the ivy round me, but no gentle aeriel borrowed its breath as a medium of speech. Men and women die, philosophers falter
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