Wuthering Heights

with that then tying it up with
bits of string. From there I could still hear the distant drooling of
Heathcliff over Cathy interrupted by violent clicks of his nose.
    There were two benches by
the fire, one of which I stretched on. When I lay down I was 5 feet 9 inches,
then stretched 6 feet. On the other bench was a cat called Grimalkin. I fell
into a deep sleep and awoke on the floor, facing the fire with my trousers
smouldering, which I beat out, leaving two holes in the knees. Joseph now on
the second bench was sitting on the cat, smoking a pipe ‘Addum a t’nice sleepons
00?’ he said. ‘Je ne parle pas franqais,’ I told him. A wisp of smoke
escaped from his pipe, he inserted a fresh wisp.
    There entered Hareton
Earnshaw performing his orisons, such as ‘Beyond the blue orison lies a
beautiful day,’ 7 then
taking the cat, Grimalkin by the tail he swung it round and round his head.
‘They did say there was not room to swing a cat in here, that’s proved them
wrong.’
    He bade me follow him,
leaving behind Grimalkin with a tail now five feet long.
    I was ushered into a room
by Earnshaw by putting the handle of a shovel in the small of my back and
shoving. Here all the females were astir. Zillah was astir blowing the fire
with a colossal bellows. There was Mrs Heathcliff astir reading a book by the
light of the blaze.
    Heathcliff was shouting at
her. ‘You will pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight.’
    A look of beatitude came
over that beautiful face. ‘Why don’t you piss off,’ she said.
    Heathcliff raised his left
leg. ‘Look out, he’s going to do a butler’s revenge,’ she said, and sprang to a
safer distance. I made to leave.
    ‘Wait,’ said Heathcliff, so
saying, he grabbed a dog by the tail and swung it round his head. ‘They do say
there’s no room to swing a cat in here, well, that proves them wrong.’ I waited
no further. I fled the house for home.
    The distance from Wuthering
Heights to the Grange is but two miles. Somehow I managed to do it in ten
again. Several times coming here I had sunk up to my neck in snow and
Heathcliff’s dogs had urinated on my head. As I entered my home, a crowd rushed
to welcome me. I don’t know who they were, some say they were from a film
agency. They had completely given me up and had sold most of my clothes. I
dragged myself upstairs, whence after putting on dry clothes and a fresh boot I
paced to and fro’ for forty to fifty minutes to restore the animal heat. No
matter how fast I walked I ended up in the same room.

Chapter
IV
    - -------------
     
     
     
    DJOURNED TO my study weak as a kitten
to enjoy a cheerful fire. Mrs Dean brought in my supper, as I ate, we talked.
    ‘You have been here a
considerable time, did you not say?’
    ‘No, I did not say,’ she
said. ‘I haven’t said anything,’ she said. By putting an arm lock on her she
admitted to having worked here eighteen years.
    ‘I came when the mistress
was married to wait on her. After she died, I didn’t see the point of waiting
any longer. The master kept me on for groping duties. By the way, you look as
weak as a kitten.’
    ‘Indeed.’
    There ensued a pause. I
took advantage of this by doing some knees bend. She was not a gossip, I
feared, unless about her own affairs (among which was a Chinaman). I had no
interest. I asked her why Heathcliff had let Thrushcross Grange.
    ‘Had let it, what?’ she
said.
    ‘Rented it,’ I ejaculated.
    ‘He let it for money,’ she
said.
    ‘He had a son?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Is he dead?’
    ‘I think so, they buried
him.’
    ‘And Mrs Heathcliff is his
widow?’ 8 ‘Yes, she is
my late master’s daughter. Catherine Linton was her maiden name.’
    ‘What? Catherine Linton!!!’
I ejaculated in a shower of spittle that showered Mrs Dean. She had to sponge
her glasses before she could see again. While she did, I did some press-ups to
keep me fit. ‘Who is Hareton Earnshaw?’ I said.
    ‘That bastard is the late
Mrs Linton’s nephew.’
    ‘Is that who the bastard
is?’ I inquired.
    ‘Yes, he is the last of the
Earnshaws. Isn’t that good?’ she said, clapping her hands together. ‘When you
were a guest at Wuthering Heights, how was Cathy?’
    ‘Mrs Heathcliff? She looked
very well, handsome, not very happy and a pain in the arse. She likes reading
books by the fireside, she’s all scorched down one side.’
    ‘What about her master,
Heathcliff? He’s so mean, if he were a ghost he’d be too mean