So I answered after I had waked from the trance-like dream.
It was 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 Adèle!" 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.