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开 本: 32开纸 张: 轻型纸包 装: 精装是否套装: 否国际标准书号ISBN: 9787222177772
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JaneEyre，中文译名为《简·爱》
简·爱自幼父母双亡，投靠冷酷的舅母，但舅母无情地抛弃了她。她在一所慈善学校做了六年的学生和两年的教师。十八岁时，简·爱受聘到桑菲尔德府学当家庭教师，认识了主人罗切斯特。两人都被对方独特的气质和丰富的感情所吸引，于是不顾身份和地位的巨大差距深深相爱了。正当他们举行婚礼时，有人证明罗切斯特的前妻还活着。简·爱知道他们不可能有平等的婚姻，于是选择了离开。后来，简·爱意外遇见了她的表兄妹们，并从叔叔那里继承了一笔遗产。但她无法抵御对罗切斯特的刻骨思念，于是便回到了已经失去了财富、身体也遭到火灾严重摧残的罗切斯特身边，毅然跟他结婚。在爱的沐浴下，罗切斯特找回了幸福和健康。
There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.
I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.
The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, “She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner-something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were-she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children.”
”What does Bessie say I have done?” I asked.
”Jane, I don’t like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent.”
A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room. I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.
Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.
I returned to my book-Bewick’s History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of “the solitary rocks and promontories” by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape-
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