Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë — Read

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The daylight came. I rose at dawn. I busied myself for an hour or two with arranging my things in my chamber, drawers, and wardrobe, in the order wherein I should wish to leave them during a brief absence.

Meantime, I heard St. John quit his room. He stopped at my door: I feared he would knock-no, but a slip of paper was passed under the door. I took it up. It bore these words-

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