Quotation from: Wuthering Heights

Written by: Emily Bronte


'Th' divil's harried off his soul,' he cried, 'and he may hev' his
carcass into t' bargin, for aught I care! Ech! what a wicked 'un
he looks, girning at death!' and the old sinner grinned in mockery.
I thought he intended to cut a caper round the bed; but suddenly
composing himself, he fell on his knees, and raised his hands, and
returned thanks that the lawful master and the ancient stock were
restored to their rights.


I felt stunned by the awful event; and my memory unavoidably
recurred to former times with a sort of oppressive sadness. But
poor Hareton, the most wronged, was the only one who really
suffered much. He sat by the corpse all night, weeping in bitter
earnest. He pressed its hand, and kissed the sarcastic, savage
face that every one else shrank from contemplating; and bemoaned
him with that strong grief which springs naturally from a generous
heart, though it be tough as tempered steel.

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