Wuthering Heights

she exclaimed. »Only that brief time?«
    »Long enough to live on nothing but cold water, and ill temper,« observed I.
    »Well, it seems a weary number of hours,« she muttered doubtfully, »it must be more – I remember being in the parlour, after they had quarrelled; and Edgar being cruelly provoking, and me running into this room desperate – As soon as ever I had barred the door, utter blackness overwhelmed me, and I fell on the floor – I couldn't explain to Edgar how certain I felt of having a fit, or going raging mad, if he persisted in teasing me! I had no command of tongue, or brain, and he did not guess my agony, perhaps; it barely left me sense to try to escape from him and his voice – Before I recovered sufficiently to see, and hear, it began to be dawn; and Nelly, I'll tell you what I thought, and what has kept recurring and recurring till I feared for my reason – I thought as I lay there, with my head against that table leg, and my eyes dimly discerning the grey square of the window, that I was enclosed in the oak-panelled bed at home; and my heart ached with some great grief which, just waking, I could not recollect – I pondered, and worried myself to discover what it could be; and most strangely, the whole last seven years of my life grew a blank! I did not recall that they had been at all. I was a child; my father was just buried, and my misery arose from the separation that Hindley had ordered between me, and Heathcliff – I was laid alone, for the first time, and, rousing from a dismal dose after a night of weeping – I lifted my hand to push the panels aside, it struck the table-top! I swept it along the carpet, and then, memory burst in – my late anguish was swallowed in a paroxysm of despair – I cannot say why I felt so wildly wretched – it must have been temporary derangement for there is scarcely cause – But, supposing at twelve years old, I had been wrenched from the Heights, and every early association, and my all in all, as Heathcliff was at that time, and been converted, at a stroke into Mrs. Linton, the lady of Thrushcross Grange, and the wife of a stranger; an exile, and outcast, thenceforth, from what had been my world – You may fancy a glimpse of the abyss where I grovelled! Shake your head, as you will, Nelly,
you
have helped to unsettle me! You should have spoken to Edgar, indeed you should, and compelled him to leave me quiet! Oh, I'm burning! I wish I were out of doors – I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free ... and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills ... Open the window again wide, fasten it open! Quick, why don't you move?«
    »Because, I won't give you your death of cold,« I answered.
    »You won't give me a chance of life, you mean,« she added sullenly. »However, I'm not helpless yet, I'll open it myself.«
    And sliding from the bed before I could hinder her, she crossed the room, walking very uncertainly, threw it back, and bent out, careless of the frosty air that cut about her shoulders as keen as a knife.
    I entreated, and finally attempted to force her to retire. But I soon found her delirious strength much surpassed mine; (she
was
delirious, I became convinced by her subsequent actions, and ravings.)
    There was no moon, and everything beneath lay in misty darkness; not a light gleamed from any house, far or near; all had been extinguished long ago; and those at Wuthering Heights were never visible ... still she asserted she caught their shining.
    »Look!« she cried eagerly, »that's my room, with the candle in it, and the trees swaying before it ... and the other candle is in Joseph's garret ... Joseph sits up late, doesn't he? He's waiting till I come home that he may lock the gate. Well, he'll wait a while yet. It's a rough journey, and a sad heart to travel it; and we must pass by Gimmerton Kirk, to go that journey! We've braved its ghosts often together, and dared each other to stand among the graves and ask them to come ... But Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I'll keep you. I'll not lie there by myself: they may bury me twelve feet deep, and throw the church down over me; but I won't rest till you are with me ... I never will!«
    She paused, and resumed with a strange smile. »He's considering ... he'd rather I'd come to him!