"Rain and wind, indeed! Yes, you are dripping like a mermaid; pull my cloak round you:
but I think you are feverish, Jane: both your cheek and hand are burning hot.
I ask again, is there anything the matter?
"Nothing now; I am neither afraid nor unhappy."
"Then you have been both?"
"Rather: but I'll tell you all about it by-and-bye, sir; and I daresay you will only laugh at me for my pains."
"I'll laugh at you heartily when to-morrow is past; till then I dare not: my prize is not certain.
This is you, who have been as slippery as an eel this last month, and as thorny as a briar-rose?
I could not lay a finger anywhere but I was pricked; and now I seem to have gathered up a stray lamb in my arms.
You wandered out of the fold to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?"
"I wanted you: but don't boast. Here we are at Thornfield: now let me get down."