[Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte]@TWC D-Link bookWuthering Heights CHAPTER VIII 16/17
Well, go, if you please--get away! And now I'll cry--I'll cry myself sick!' She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set to weeping in serious earnest.
Edgar persevered in his resolution as far as the court; there he lingered.
I resolved to encourage him. 'Miss is dreadfully wayward, sir,' I called out.
'As bad as any marred child: you'd better be riding home, or else she will be sick, only to grieve us.' The soft thing looked askance through the window: he possessed the power to depart as much as a cat possesses the power to leave a mouse half killed, or a bird half eaten.
Ah, I thought, there will be no saving him: he's doomed, and flies to his fate! And so it was: he turned abruptly, hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him; and when I went in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come home rabid drunk, ready to pull the whole place about our ears (his ordinary frame of mind in that condition), I saw the quarrel had merely effected a closer intimacy--had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and enabled them to forsake the disguise of friendship, and confess themselves lovers. Intelligence of Mr.Hindley's arrival drove Linton speedily to his horse, and Catherine to her chamber.
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