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As I chewed my sandwich (back in bed) I read the first few pages of Wuthering Heights. I had meant to start it months before, but hadn’t found the time. I was bored of it by the time I had finished the sandwich; the blurb had lied to me, I could see no trace of a free spirited Cathy or a brooding, conflicted Heathcliff. I had just read four pages
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I still have fond memories of this song.
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