"Now is my time to slip away," thought I: but the tones that then severed the air arrested me. Mrs. Fairfax had said Mr. Rochester possessed a fine voice: he did--a mellow, powerful bass, into which he threw his own feeling, his own force; finding a way through the ear to the heart, and there waking sensation strangely. I waited till the last deep and full vibration had expired--till the tide of talk, checked an instant, had resumed its flow; I then quitted my sheltered corner and made my exit by the side-door, which was fortunately near. Thence a narrow passage led into the hall: in crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose; I stopped to tie it, kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of the staircase. I heard the dining-room door unclose; a gentleman came out; rising hastily, I stood face to face with him: it was Mr. Rochester.

     "How do you do?" he asked.

     "I am very well, sir."

     "Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?"

     I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but I would not take that freedom. I answered--

     "I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir."

     "What have you been doing during my absence?"

     "Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual."