Грозовой перевал

           ThenagoodwhileafterIheardhermurmur,"No,I’llnotdie—he’dbeglad—hedoesnotlovemeatall—hewouldnevermissme!"

           "Didyouwantanything,ma’am?"Ienquired,stillpreservingmyexternalcomposure,inspiteofherghastlycountenanceandstrangeexaggeratedmanner.

           "Whatisthatapatheticbeingdoing?"shedemanded,pushingherthickentangledlocksfromherwastedface."Hashefallenintoalethargy,orishedead?"

           "Neither,"repliedI;"ifyoumeanMr.Linton.He’stolerablywell,Ithink,thoughhisstudiesoccupyhimrathermorethantheyought:heiscontinuallyamonghisbooks,sincehehasnoothersociety."

           Ishouldnothavespokenso,ifIhadknownhertruecondition,butIcouldnotgetridofthenotionthatsheactedapartofherdisorder.

           "Amonghisbooks!"shecried,confounded."AndIdying!Ionthebrinkofthegrave!MyGod!doesheknowhowI’maltered?"continuedshe,staringatherreflectioninamirrorhangingagainsttheoppositewall."IsthatCatherineLinton!Heimaginesmeinapet—inplay,perhaps.Cannotyouinformhimthatitisfrightfulearnest?Nelly,ifitbenottoolate,assoonasIlearnhowhefeels,I’llchoosebetweenthesetwo;eithertostarveatonce—thatwouldbenopunishmentunlesshehadaheart—ortorecover,andleavethecountry.Areyouspeakingthetruthabouthimnow?Takecare.