” She assented gently. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Cathy chimed. He had need of all the inexhaustible energy of his character to support him through his toilsome walk over the wet grass, or along the slippery ploughed land. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. " "Perhaps I read of it somewhere.
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