That eye of hers, that voice stirred every antipathy I had. Shaking from
head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, I continued--
"I am glad you are no relation of mine: I will never call you aunt again
as long as I live. I will never come to see you when I am grown up; and
if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will say
the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with
miserable cruelty."
"How dare you affirm that, Jane Eyre?"
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"How dare I, Mrs. Reed? How dare I? Because it is the truth. You
think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or
kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity. I shall remember
how you thrust me back--roughly and violently thrust me back--into the
red-room, and locked me up there, to my dying day; though I was in agony;
though I cried out, while suffocating with distress, 'Have mercy! Have
mercy, Aunt Reed!' And that punishment you made me suffer because your
wicked boy struck me--knocked me down for nothing. I will tell anybody
who asks me questions, this exact tale. People think you a good woman,
but you are bad, hard-hearted. You are deceitful!"
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