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Wuthering Heights - Brontë, Emily · 53 words

Wuthering Heights - Brontë, Emily

There. youve done with coming here, cried Catherine. Get away, now; hell return with a brace of pistols and half a dozen assistants. If he did overhear us, of course hed never forgive you. Youve played me an ill turn, Heathcliff. But go make haste. Id rather see Edgar at bay than you.

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Wuthering Heights - Brontë, Emily | Practice