“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　house：　when　we　have　been　married　a　year　and　a　day；　I　will　tell　you；　but　not　now。　Are　you　satisfied；　Jane？　Do　you　accept　my　solution　of　the　mystery？”

I　reflected；　and　in　truth　it　appeared　to　me　the　only　possible　one：　satisfied　I　was　not；　but　to　please　him　I　endeavoured　to　appear　so—　relieved；　I　c