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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: the arm. I've said I did not love her, and rather relished
mortifying her vanity now and then: besides, she hurt me
extremely; so I started up from my knees, and screamed out, 'Oh,
Miss, that's a nasty trick! You have no right to nip me, and I'm
not going to bear it.'
'I didn't touch you, you lying creature!' cried she, her fingers
tingling to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage. She never
had power to conceal her passion, it always set her whole
complexion in a blaze.
'What's that, then?' I retorted, showing a decided purple witness
to refute her.
Wuthering Heights |
