“Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. Killed is too kind a word. Marry, come up! I'll see who's to be obeyed. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. But his words were borne away by the driving wind.
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