“I can’t imagine what has come over you,” said her aunt. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. Cathy appeared in her bathrobe. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Will you let me go out of this room?” “No,” cried Ramage; “hear me out! I’ll have that satisfaction, anyhow. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions.
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