Mr.Rochester continued--"Adele showed me some sketches this morning, which she said were yours.

I don't know whether they were entirely of your doing; probably a master aided you ?" "No, indeed!" I interjected.
"Ah! that pricks pride.

Well, fetch me your portfolio, if you can vouch for its contents being original; but don't pass your word unless you are certain: I can recognise patchwork." "Then I will say nothing, and you shall judge for yourself, sir." I brought the portfolio from the library.
"Approach the table," said he; and I wheeled it to his couch.

Adele and Mrs.Fairfax drew near to see the pictures.
"No crowding," said Mr.Rochester: "take the drawings from my hand as I finish with them; but don't push your faces up to mine." He deliberately scrutinised each sketch and painting.

Three he laid aside; the others, when he had examined them, he swept from him.
"Take them off to the other table, Mrs.Fairfax," said he, "and look at them with Adele;--you" (glancing at me) "resume your seat, and answer my questions.