“I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly."
Rochester:WHY JANE, WHY?? DON'T YOU LIKE IT HERE??
Jane:Yes, but you have a bride.
Rochester *PANIC. Oh crap, what does she know? Play it cool. Act natural*:Jane, I don't know what you're talking about.
Jane:Blanche Ingram, the woman you're about to marry!
Rochester *sigh of relief*:Oh her. She SO does not matter. I know I've given you every reason to THINK I am interested in Miss Ingram, but I love YOU, Jane. Can't you see how all the things I did were to make you jealous, so that you would reveal that you have feelings for me too? I mean that gypsy thing was not at all creepy in any manner, right? Don't you love me too, Jane? Oh, Jane, little bird darling say you'll marry me.
Jane:I am no bird.
Rochester:No of course you're not; that wouldn't work out all, would it? I was being metaphorical, Janet!
Jane:Are you making my name into a swear word?
Rochester:No, JANE, just say you'll marry me.
Jane:I don't know if I trust you.
Rochester:Why ever not? Is it the house? Is it the mysterious fire? Is it Grace Poole or a myriad of other issues, all of which have a very simple explanation but one that I refuse to offer?