Have I not found her friendless, and cold, and comfortless?
Will I not guard, and cherish, and solace her?
Is there not love in my heart, and constancy in my resolves?
It will expiate at God's tribunal.

I know my Maker sanctions what I do.

For the world's judgment--I wash my hands thereof.

For man's opinion--I defy it." But what had befallen the night?
The moon was not yet set, and we were all in shadow: I could scarcely see my master's face, near as I was.

And what ailed the chestnut tree?
it writhed and groaned; while wind roared in the laurel walk, and came sweeping over us.
"We must go in," said Mr.Rochester: "the weather changes.