The Hiss Of The Quenched Element, The Breakage Of The Pitcher Which I Had Flung From My Hand When I Had Emptied It, And, Above All, The Splash Of The Shower-bath I Had Liberally Bestowed, Roused Mr Rochester At Last Though It Was Dark, I Knew He Was Awake; Because I Heard Him Fulminating Strange Anathemas At Finding Himself Lying In A Pool Of Water. 'is There A Flood?' He Cried
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The Hiss Of The Quenched Element, The
Charlotte Bronte
The Hiss Of The Quenched Element, The Breakage Of The Pitcher Which I Had Flung From My Hand When I Had Emptied It, And, Above All, The Splash Of The Shower-bath I Had Liberally Bestowed, Roused Mr Rochester At Last Though It Was Dark, I Knew He Was Awake; Because I Heard Him Fulminating Strange Anathemas At Finding Himself Lying In A Pool Of Water. 'is There A Flood?' He Cried
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