Quotation from: Wuthering Heights

Written by: Emily Bronte


'Well, Mr. Earnshaw,' she cried, 'I wonder what you'll have agait
next? Are we going to murder folk on our very door-stones? I see
this house will never do for me - look at t' poor lad, he's fair
choking! Wisht, wisht; you mun'n't go on so. Come in, and I'll
cure that: there now, hold ye still.'


With these words she suddenly splashed a pint of icy water down my
neck, and pulled me into the kitchen. Mr. Heathcliff followed, his
accidental merriment expiring quickly in his habitual moroseness.

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Old Dominion University CS Dept
Designed by Joan A. Smith for the CRATE project
Created: 2007-2-22T12:35:29Z
Part of the CratePreservation Project
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Part of a series of experiments in web preservation under the direction of Michael L. Nelson, Ph.D.