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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 hou
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