She was gratified: there it stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the dining-room.
She appeared to know it by instinct.
"Ma boite! ma boite!" exclaimed she, running towards it.
"Yes, there is your 'boite' at last: take it into a corner, you genuine daughter of Paris, and amuse yourself with disembowelling it," said the deep and rather sarcastic voice of Mr.Rochester, proceeding from the depths of an immense easy-chair at the fireside.

"And mind," he continued, "don't bother me with any details of the anatomical process, or any notice of the condition of the entrails: let your operation be conducted in silence: tiens-toi tranquille, enfant; comprends-tu ?" Adele seemed scarcely to need the warning--she had already retired to a sofa with her treasure, and was busy untying the cord which secured the lid.

Having removed this impediment, and lifted certain silvery envelopes of tissue paper, she merely exclaimed-- "Oh ciel! Que c'est beau!" and then remained absorbed in ecstatic contemplation.
"Is Miss Eyre there ?" now demanded the master, half rising from his seat to look round to the door, near which I still stood.
"Ah! well, come forward; be seated here." He drew a chair near his own.
"I am not fond of the prattle of children," he continued; "for, old bachelor as I am, I have no pleasant associations connected with their lisp.

It would be intolerable to me to pass a whole evening _tete-a-tete_ with a brat.

Don't draw that chair farther off, Miss Eyre; sit down exactly where I placed it--if you please, that is.