"Jane Eyre"
by Charlotte Bronte

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     I understood her very well, for I had been accustomed to the fluent tongue of Madame Pierrot.

     "I wish," continued the good lady, "you would ask her a question or two about her parents: I wonder if she remembers them?"

     "Adele," I inquired, "with whom did you live when you were in that pretty clean town you spoke of?"

     "I lived long ago with mama; but she is gone to the Holy Virgin. Mama used to teach me to dance and sing, and to say verses. A great many gentlemen and ladies came to see mama, and I used to dance before them, or to sit on their knees and sing to them: I liked it. Shall I let you hear me sing now?"

 

     She had finished her breakfast, so I permitted her to give a specimen of her accomplishments. Descending from her chair, she came and placed herself on my knee; then, folding her little hands demurely before her, shaking back her curls and lifting her eyes to the ceiling, she commenced singing a song from some opera. It was the strain of a forsaken lady, who, after bewailing the perfidy of her lover, calls pride to her aid; desires her attendant to deck her in her brightest jewels and richest robes, and resolves to meet the false one that night at a ball, and prove to him, by the gaiety of her demeanour, how little his desertion has affected her.

 
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