TAILIEUCHUNG - LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC-JANE EYRE CHARLOTTE BRONTE Chapter 28

JANE EYRE CHARLOTTE BRONTE Chapter 28 Đây là một tác phẩm anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng quen thuộc. Nhằm giúp các em và các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh . | JANE EYRE CHARLOTTE BRONTE Chapter 28 Two days are passed. It is a summer evening the coachman has set me down at a place called Whitcross he could take me no farther for the sum I had given and I was not possessed of another shilling in the world. The coach is a mile off by this time I am alone. At this moment I discover that I forgot to take my parcel out of the pocket of the coach where I had placed it for safety there it remains there it must remain and now I am absolutely destitute. Whitcross is no town nor even a hamlet it is but a stone pillar set up where four roads meet whitewashed I suppose to be more obvious at a distance and in darkness. Four arms spring from its summit the nearest town to which these point is according to the inscription distant ten miles the farthest above twenty. From the well-known names of these towns I learn in what county I have lighted a north-midland shire dusk with moorland ridged with mountain this I see. There are great moors behind and on each hand of me there are waves of mountains far beyond that deep valley at my feet. The population here must be thin and I see no passengers on these roads they stretch out east west north and south--white broad lonely they are all cut in the moor and the heather grows deep and wild to their very verge. Yet a chance traveller might pass by and I wish no eye to see me now strangers would wonder what I am doing lingering here at the sign-post evidently objectless and lost. I might be questioned I could give no answer but what would sound incredible and excite suspicion. Not a tie holds me to human society at this moment--not a charm or hope calls me where my fellow-creatures are--none that saw me would have a kind thought or a good wish for me. I have no relative but the universal mother Nature I will seek her breast and ask repose. I struck straight into the heath I held on to a hollow I saw deeply furrowing the brown moorside I waded knee-deep in its dark growth I turned with its turnings

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