I was on the point of risking Mr.Rochester's displeasure by disobeying his orders, when the light once more gleamed dimly on the gallery wall, and I heard his unshod feet tread the matting.

"I hope it is he," thought I, "and not something worse." He re-entered, pale and very gloomy.

"I have found it all out," said he, setting his candle down on the washstand; "it is as I thought." "How, sir ?" He made no reply, but stood with his arms folded, looking on the ground.
At the end of a few minutes he inquired in rather a peculiar tone-- "I forget whether you said you saw anything when you opened your chamber door." "No, sir, only the candlestick on the ground." "But you heard an odd laugh?
You have heard that laugh before, I should think, or something like it ?" "Yes, sir: there is a woman who sews here, called Grace Poole,--she laughs in that way.

She is a singular person." "Just so.

Grace Poole--you have guessed it.