continuous？”
“The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator。” I said this rather to myself than to the gipsy； whose strange talk； voice； manner； had by this time wrapped me in a kind of dream。 One unexpected sentence came from her lips after another； till I got involved in a web of mystification； and wondered what unseen spirit had been sitting for weeks by my heart watching its workings and taking record of every pulse。
“Eagerness of a listener！” repeated she： “yes； Mr。 Rochester has sat by the hour； his ear inclined to the fascinating lips that took such delight in their task of municating； and Mr。 Rochester was so willing to receive and looked so grateful for the pastime given him； you have noticed this？”
“Grateful！ I cannot remember detecting gratitude in his face。”
“Detecting！ You have analysed； then。 And what did you detect； if not gratitude？”
I said nothing。
“You have seen love： have you not？—and； looking forward； you have seen him married； and beheld his bride happy？”
“Humph！ Not exactly。 Your witch’s skill is rather at fault sometimes。”
“What the devil have you seen； then？”
“Never mind： I came here to inquire； not to confess。 Is it known that Mr。 Rochester is to be married？”
“Yes； and to the beautiful Miss Ingram。”
“Shortly？”
“Appearances would warrant that conclusion： and； no doubt （though； with an audacity that wants chastising out of you； you seem to question it）； they will be a superlatively happy pair。 He must love such a handsome； noble； witty； acplished lady； and probably she loves him； or； if not his person； at least his purse。 I know she considers the Rochester estate eligible to the last degree； though （God pardon me！） I told her something on that p