"I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know. ” He said as Cathy took his coat and alternately handed him back his bouquet of red roses. There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth.
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