He rose，and with a stride reached me.

"My bride is here," he said，again drawing me to him，"because my equal is here，and my likeness. Jane，will you marry me?"

Still I did not answer，and still I writhed myself from his grasp: for I was still incredulous.

"Do you doubt me，Jane?"

"Entirely."

"You have no faith in me?"

"Not a whit."

"Am I a liar in your eyes?" he asked passionately. "Little sceptic，you shall be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that you know. What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains to prove: I caused a rumour to reach her that my fortune was not a third of what was supposed，and after that I presented myself to see the result; it was coldness both from her and her mother. I would not- I could not- marry Miss Ingram. You- you strange，you almost unearthly thing!- I love as my own flesh. You- poor and obscure，and small and plain as you are- I entreat to accept me as a husband."

"What，me!" I ejaculated，beginning in his earnestness- and especially in his incivility- to credit his sincerity: "me who have not a friend in the world but you- if you are my friend: not a shilling but what you have given me?"

"You，Jane，I must have you for my own- entirely my own. Will you be mine? Say yes，quickly."

"Mr. Rochester，let me look at your face: turn to the moonlight."

"Why?"

"Because I want to read your countenance- turn!"

"There! you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled，scratched page. Read on: only make haste，for I suffer."

His face was very much agitated and very much flushed，and there were strong workings in the features，and strange gleams in the eyes.