CHAPTER XIX 254
" But well carried out, eh? Don ' t you think so?"
" With the ladies you must have managed well." " But not with you?" " You did not act the character of a gipsy with me." " What character did I act? My own?"
" No; some unaccountable one. In short, I believe you have been trying to draw me out-- or in; you have been talking nonsense to make me talk nonsense. It is scarcely fair, sir."
" Do you forgive me, Jane?"
" I cannot tell till I have thought it all over. If, on reflection, I find I have fallen into no great absurdity, I shall try to forgive you; but it was not right."
" Oh, you have been very correct-- very careful, very sensible."
I reflected, and thought, on the whole, I had. It was a comfort; but, indeed, I had been on my guard almost from the beginning of the interview. Something of masquerade I suspected. I knew gipsies and fortune-tellers did not express themselves as this seeming old woman had expressed herself; besides I had noted her feigned voice, her anxiety to conceal her features. But my mind had been running on Grace Poole-- that living enigma, that mystery of mysteries, as I considered her. I had never thought of Mr. Rochester.
" Well," said he, " what are you musing about? What does that grave smile signify?"
" Wonder and self-congratulation, sir. I have your permission to retire now, I suppose?"