CHAPTER XXVI
Sophie came at seven to dress me: she was very long indeed in
accomplishing her task; so long that Mr. Rochester, grown, I suppose,
impatient of my delay, sent up to ask why I did not come. She was
just fastening my veil (the plain square of blond after all) to
my hair with a brooch; I hurried from under her hands as soon as
I could.
"Stop!" she cried in French. "Look at yourself in the mirror:
you have not taken one peep."
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