Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. She'll have this hour always with her; and you failed her. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded.
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