"Who then?"
"Heathcliff."
"I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff?
"Aye!" he answered again.
Desiring to have his reasons for liking him, I could only gather the sentences. I known't—he pays Dad back what he gies to me—he curses Daddy for cursing me—He says I mun do as I will."
"And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then?" I pursued.
"No, I was told the curate should have his ——— teeth dashed down his ——— throat, if he stepped over the threshold—Heathcliff, had promised that!"
I put the orange in his hand; and bade him tell his father that a woman called Nelly Dean, was waiting to speak with him, by the garden gate.
He went up the walk, and entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared on the door stones, and I turned directly
