canvas painting

Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse, and then out of
a jeweller's shop: the more he bought me, the more my cheek burned
with a sense of annoyance and degradation. As we re-entered the
carriage, and I sat back feverish and fagged, I remembered what, in
the hurry of events, dark and bright, I had wholly forgotten- the
letter of my uncle, John Eyre, to Mrs. Reed: his intention to adopt me
and make me his legatee. 'It would, indeed, be a relief,' I thought,
'if I had ever so small an independency; I never can bear being
dressed like a doll by Mr. Rochester, or sitting like a second Danae
with the golden shower falling daily round me. I will write to Madeira
the moment I get home, and tell my uncle John I am going to be
married, and to whom: if I had but a prospect of one day bringing
Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I could better endure to be
kept by him now.' And somewhat relieved by this idea (which I failed
not to execute that day), I ventured once more to meet my master's and
lover's eye, which most pertinaciously sought mine, though I averted
both face and gaze. He smiled; and I thought his smile was such as a
sultan might, in a blissful and fond moment, bestow on a slave his
gold and gems had enriched: I crushed his hand, which was ever hunting
mine, vigorously, and thrust it back to him red with the passionate