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something to happen which might have the effect of freeing both
Wuthering Heights and the Grange of Mr. Heathcliff, quietly;
leaving us as we had been prior to his advent. His visits were a
continual nightmare to me; and, I suspected, to my master also.
His abode at the Heights was an oppression past explaining. I felt
that God had forsaken the stray sheep there to its own wicked
wanderings, and an evil beast prowled between it and the fold,
waiting his time to spring and destroy.