3. ” She appraised him. Mr. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. Cathy sighed. Fascination. It would be the culmination of her plan. . “It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. The fanatic has no such word in his vocabulary. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before.
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