"Sir," I interrupted him，"you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate- with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel- she cannot help being mad."

"Jane，my little darling (so I will call you，for so you are)，you don"t know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because she is mad I hate her. If you were mad，do you think I should hate you?"

"I do indeed，sir."

"Then you are mistaken，and you know nothing about me，and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure，and if it were broken，it would be my treasure still: if you raved，my arms should confine you，and not a strait waistcoat- your grasp，even in fury，would have a charm for me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning，I should receive you in an embrace，at least as fond as it would be restrictive. I should not shrink from you with disgust as I did from her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and I could hang over you with untiring tenderness，though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing into your eyes，though they had no longer a ray of recognition for me.- But why do I follow that train of ideas? I was talking of removing you from Thornfield. All，you know，is prepared for prompt departure: to-morrow you shall go. I only ask you to endure one more night under this roof，Jane; and then，farewell to its miseries and terrors for ever! I have a place to repair to，which will be a secure sanctuary from hateful reminiscences，from unwele intrusion- even from falsehood and slander."

"And take Adele with you，sir," I interrupted; "she will be a panion for you."