vegaofthelyre:The feeling was not like an electric shock, but it was quite as sharp, as strange, as
vegaofthelyre:The feeling was not like an electric shock, but it was quite as sharp, as strange, as startling: it acted on my senses as if their utmost activity hitherto had been but torpor, from which they were now summoned and forced to wake. They rose expectant: eye and ear waited while the flesh quivered on my bones.“What have you heard? What do you see?” asked St. John. I saw nothing, but I heard a voice somewhere cry—“Jane! Jane! Jane!”—nothing more.“O God! what is it?” I gasped.I might have said, “Where is it?” for it did not seem in the room—nor in the house—nor in the garden; it did not come out of the air—nor from under the earth—nor from overhead. I had heard it—where, or whence, for ever impossible to know! And it was the voice of a human being—a known, loved, well-remembered voice—that of Edward Fairfax Rochester; and it spoke in pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently.“I am coming!” I cried. “Wait for me! Oh, I will come!” -- source link