"Yes; and how sweetly his father curses in his solitude! You remember him, I daresay, when he was just such another as that chubby thing: nearly as young and innocent. However, Nelly, I shall oblige you to listen: it's not long; and I've no power to be merry to-night."
"I won't hear it, I won't hear it!" I repeated, hastily.
I was superstitious about dreams then, and am still; and Catherine had an unusual gloom in her aspect, that made me dread something from which I might shape a prophecy, and foresee a fearful catastrophe. She was vexed, but she did not proceed. Apparently taking up another subject, she recommenced in a short time.
"If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable."

I won't hear it!' I was superstitious about dreams.
Catherine was vexed, but she did not go on. Instead she said,
'If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be miserable.'
