Джейн Эйр / Jane Eyre

’’

“Sorry indeed to hear! She and I must talk. Come here.”

I came up to him. He placed me straight before him. What a face he had! What a great nose! And what a mouth!

“No sight so sad as that of a naughty child. Do you know where wicked people go, Jane, after they die?”

“They go to hell,” was my ready answer.

“Is that what you want to happen to you?”

“No, sir,” I said.

“What must you do to avoid it?”

I was at a loss. I knew I couldn’t try any harder to be good. “I must take care not to die, sir.

”

“Do you say your prayers night and morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you read your Bible?” continued my interrogator.

“Sometimes.”

“Are you fond of it?”

“I like Revelations[9 - Revelations – Откровения (Откровение Иоанна Богослова – название последней книги Нового Завета)], and the book of Daniel.”

“And the Psalms?”

“I don’t like them.”

“Oh, shocking! I know a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart. When asked what he would prefer, a nut or a Psalm to learn, he says, ‘Oh, the verse of a Psalm, please.

Angels sing Psalms. I wish to be like a little angel.’ He then gets two nuts as a reward for his goodness.”

“Psalms are not interesting.”

“You must pray to God to change your wicked heart and give you a new and clean one.”

I wanted to ask him how when Mrs. Reed broke the silence.

“Mr. Brocklehurst,” she said. “If you admit her into Lowood school, I want the superintendent and teachers keep a strict eye on her. Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child.

” Uttered before a stranger, the accusation cut me to the heart.

“Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child. She will be watched, Mrs. Reed. I will speak to Miss Temple and the teachers,” said Mr. Brocklehurst.

“I wish her to be made useful and humble. She will, with your permission, spend all vacations at Lowood.”

“I approve of your decisions, madam.”

“I will send her, then, as soon as possible, Mr. Brocklehurst.”

“I will send Miss Temple notice about a new girl, so that there will be no difficulty about receiving her.

Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Brocklehurst.”

Mrs. Reed and I were left alone: some minutes passed in silence; she was sewing, I was watching her with rage in my eyes. Mrs. Reed looked up from her work

“Return to the nursery,” she ordered with irritation. But first I wanted to talk with her.

“I am not deceitful,” I said. “If I were, I would lie and say I love you, and I declare I do not love you.