As to his cousin, she wept with all her might, aghast at the mischief she had done: though she said nothing. I held him till the fit exhausted itself. Then he thrust me away, and leant his head down silently. Catherine quelled her lamentations also, took a seat opposite, and looked solemnly into the fire.

‘How do you feel now, Master Heathcliff?’ I inquired, after waiting ten minutes.

‘I wish SHE felt as I do,’ he replied: ‘spiteful, cruel thing! Hareton never touches me: he never struck me in his life. And I was better to-day: and there - ‘ his voice died in a whimper.

‘I didn’t strike you!’ muttered Cathy, chewing her lip to prevent another burst of emotion.