Practice Typing
Wuthering Heights - Brontë, Emily · 79 words
Well, it seems a weary number of hours, she muttered doubtfully. it must be more. I remember being in the parlour after they had quarrelled, and Edgar being cruelly provoking, and me running into this room desperate. As soon as ever I had barred the door, utter blackness overwhelmed me, and I fell on the floor. I couldnt explain to Edgar how certain I felt of having a fit, or going raging mad, if he persisted in teasing me.
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