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I knew Mrs Reed had not spoken for days: was she reviving? I went

up to her

"It is I, Aunt Reed"

"Who--I?" was her answer "Who are you?" looking at me with

surprise and a sort of alarer to e, aunt"

"Aunt," she repeated "Who calls me aunt? You are not one of the

Gibsons; and yet I know you--that face, and the eyes and forehead,

are quiet familiar to me: you are like--why, you are like Jane

Eyre!"

I said nothing: I was afraid of occasioning so

my identity

"Yet," said she, "I ahts deceive

me I wished to see Jane Eyre, and I fancy a likeness where none

exists: besides, in eight years she ently assured her that I was the person she supposed and desiredthat I was understood, and that her senses were

quite collected, I explained how Bessie had sent her husband to

fetch me fro "I was trying to turn

myself a few minutes since, and find I cannot move a limb It is as

well I should ease my mind before I die: e think little of in

health, burdens us at such an hour as the present is to me Is the

nurse here? or is there no one in the room but you?"