1 This hint was enough to bind our hands.
2 As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell wholly into my hands.
3 I wrung my hands, and cried out; and Mr. Linton hastened his step at the noise.
4 She ate and drank eagerly, and sank back on her pillow again, clenching her hands and groaning.
5 He leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands and remained rapt in dumb meditation.
6 She seated herself by me again: her countenance grew sadder and graver, and her clasped hands trembled.
7 As I reached them, Hindley leant forward on the rails to listen to a noise below; almost forgetting what he had in his hands.
8 She came in and lay down on the settle, all soaked as she was, turning her face to the back, and putting her hands before it.
9 Her magnanimity provoked his tears: he wept wildly, kissing her supporting hands, and yet could not summon courage to speak out.
10 I heard a malignant, crackly laugh by the fire, and turning, beheld that odious Joseph standing rubbing his bony hands, and quivering.
11 The latter saw me looking; and having shaken hands, advised me to close the door, and leave him undisturbed; for the journey had fatigued him.
12 Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in his pockets, too awkward to speak; though he looked as if he did not relish my intrusion.
13 She thought that some of them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her master, she turned her vocal artillery against the younger scoundrel.
14 At other times, she would turn petulantly away, and hide her face in her hands, or even push him off angrily; and then he took care to let her alone, for he was certain of doing no good.
15 In play, she liked exceedingly to act the little mistress; using her hands freely, and commanding her companions: she did so to me, but I would not bear slapping and ordering; and so I let her know.
16 I experienced pleasure in being able to exasperate him: the sense of pleasure woke my instinct of self-preservation, so I fairly broke free; and if ever I come into his hands again he is welcome to a signal revenge.
17 He walked up and down, with his hands in his pockets, apparently quite forgetting my presence; and his abstraction was evidently so deep, and his whole aspect so misanthropical, that I shrank from disturbing him again.
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