Mrs.Fairfax had said Mr.Rochester possessed a fine voice: he did--a mellow, powerful bass, into which he threw his own feeling, his own force; finding a way through the ear to the heart, and there waking sensation strangely.

I waited till the last deep and full vibration had expired--till the tide of talk, checked an instant, had resumed its flow; I then quitted my sheltered corner and made my exit by the side-door, which was fortunately near.

Thence a narrow passage led into the hall: in crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose; I stopped to tie it, kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of the staircase.

I heard the dining-room door unclose; a gentleman came out; rising hastily, I stood face to face with him: it was Mr.Rochester.
"How do you do ?" he asked.
"I am very well, sir." "Why did you not come and speak to me in the room ?" I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but I would not take that freedom.

I answered-- "I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir." "What have you been doing during my absence ?" "Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual." "And getting a good deal paler than you were--as I saw at first sight.
What is the matter ?" "Nothing at all, sir." "Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me ?" "Not the least." "Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early." "I am tired, sir." He looked at me for a minute.
"And a little depressed," he said.