painting in oil

yet night, but July nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes.
'It cannot be too early to commence the task I have to fulfil,'
thought I. I rose: I was dressed; for I had taken off nothing but my
shoes. I knew where to find in my drawers some linen, a locket, a
ring. In seeking these articles, I encountered the beads of a pearl
necklace Mr. Rochester had forced me to accept a few days ago. I
left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride's who had
melted in air. The other articles I made up in a parcel; my purse,
containing twenty shillings (it was all I had), I put in my pocket:
I tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, took the parcel and my
slippers, which I would not put on yet, and stole from my room.
'Farewell, kind Mrs. Fairfax!' I whispered, as I glided past her
door. 'Farewell, my darling Adele! I said, as I glanced towards the
nursery. No thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. I
had to deceive a fine ear: for aught I knew it might now be listening.
I would have got past Mr. Rochester's chamber without a pause;
but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my
foot was forced to stop also. No sleep was there: the inmate was