“I am too much in earnest,” he answered, “to be able to take this matter lightly. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. I have one shilling and sevenpence halfpenny left. And, after all, a fine clear sky of bright colors is the signal to come out of hiding and rejoice and go on with life. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch.
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