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Mr Heathcliff and his man climbed the cellar steps with vexatious phlegm: I don't think they moved one second faster than usual, though the hearth was an absolute tempest of worrying and yelping. Happily, an inhabitant of the kitchen made more dispatch: a lusty dame, with tucked-up gown, bare arms, and fire-flushed cheeks, rushed into the midst of us flourishing a frying-pan: and used that weapon, and her tongue, to such purpose, that the storm subsided magically, and she only remained, heaving like a sea after a high wind, when her master entered on the scene.
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What the devil is the matter?' he asked, eyeing me in a manner that I could ill endure after this inhospitable treatment.
`What the devil, indeed!' I muttered. `The herd of possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals of yours, sir. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers!'
`They won't meddle with persons who touch nothing,' he remarked, putting the bottle before me, and restoring the displaced table. `The dogs do right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine?'
`No, thank you.'
`Not bitten, are you?'
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