The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. Cathy chimed. ’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Their very furniture had mysteriously a high-browed quality, and Mr. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. Their eyes met, and his expressed perplexity and curiosity.
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