People think you a good woman, but you are bad, hard-hearted.

_You_ are deceitful!" {How dare I, Mrs.Ried?
How dare I?
Because it is the truth: p30.jpg} Ere I had finished this reply, my soul began to expand, to exult, with the strangest sense of freedom, of triumph, I ever felt.

It seemed as if an invisible bond had burst, and that I had struggled out into unhoped- for liberty.

Not without cause was this sentiment: Mrs.Reed looked frightened; her work had slipped from her knee; she was lifting up her hands, rocking herself to and fro, and even twisting her face as if she would cry.
"Jane, you are under a mistake: what is the matter with you?
Why do you tremble so violently?
Would you like to drink some water ?" "No, Mrs.Reed." "Is there anything else you wish for, Jane?
I assure you, I desire to be your friend." "Not you.

You told Mr.Brocklehurst I had a bad character, a deceitful disposition; and I'll let everybody at Lowood know what you are, and what you have done." "Jane, you don't understand these things: children must be corrected for their faults." "Deceit is not my fault!" I cried out in a savage, high voice.
"But you are passionate, Jane, that you must allow: and now return to the nursery--there's a dear--and lie down a little." "I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs.
Reed, for I hate to live here." "I will indeed send her to school soon," murmured Mrs.Reed _sotto voce_; and gathering up her work, she abruptly quitted the apartment.
I was left there alone--winner of the field.