“Heavy rain had started falling again, and the wind was blowing violently round the walls of the old house. Suddenly she heard crying again. This time she decided to discover who it was. She left her room, and in the darkness followed the crying sound, round corners and through doors, up and down stairs, to the other side of the big house. At last she found the right room. She pushed the door open and went in.It was a big room with beautiful old furniture and pictures. In the large bed was a boy..., who looked tired and cross, with a thin, white, tearful face. He stared at Mary.'Who are you?' he whispered. Are you a dream?''No, I'm not. I'm Mary Lennox. Mr Craven's my uncle.''He's my father' said the boy. 'I'm Colin Craven.''No one ever told me he had a son!' said Mary, very surprised.'Well, no one ever told me you'd come to live here. I'm ill, you see. I don't want people to see me and talk about me. If I live, I may have a crooked back like my father, but I'll probably die.''What a strange house this is!' said Mary.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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