"Oh, dear! I thought I was at home," she sighed. "I thought I was lying in my chamber at Wuthering Heights. Because I'm weak, my brain got confused, and I screamed unconsciously. Don't say anything; but stay with me. I dread sleeping: my dreams appal me."
"A sound sleep would do you good, ma'am," I answered: "and I hope this suffering will prevent your trying starving again."

'Oh, dear! I thought I was back at Wuthering Heights,' she sighed. 'Because I'm weak, my brain got confused. Stay with me. I dread sleeping: my dreams appal me.'
'A sound sleep would do you good, ma'am,' I answered: 'and I hope you will not try starving again.'
