of a piece of timber. They flew off at my approach, and he raised his eyes and spoke:
"She's dead!" he said; "I've not waited for you to learn that. Put your handkerchief away—don't snivel before me. Damn you all! she wants none of your tears!"
I was weeping as much for him as her: we do sometimes pity creatures that have none of the feeling either for themselves or others; and when I first looked into his face I perceived that he had got intelligence of the catastrophe; and a foolish notion struck me that his heart was quelled, and he prayed, because his lips moved, and his gaze was bent on the ground.
"Yes, she's dead!" I answered, checking my sobs, and drying my cheeks. "Gone to to heaven, I hope, where we may, everyone, join her, if we take due warning, and leave our evil ways to follow good!"
"Did she take due warning, then?" asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer. "Did she die