Грозовой перевал / Wuthering Heights

Р?дите РґРѕ конца сарая, если хотите поговорить СЃ РЅРёРј. (Здесь Рё далее Джозеф использует архаичные Рё диалектные слова.)]

�Is there nobody inside to open the door?’ I hallooed, responsively.

�There’s nobbut t’ missis; and shoo’ll not open ’t an ye mak’ yer flaysome dins till neeght.’[6 - Здесь нет никого, кроме госпожи, а она не откроет, даже если вы будете шуметь до ночи.

]

�Why? Cannot you tell her whom I am, eh, Joseph?’

�Nor – ne me! I’ll hae no hend wi’t,’[7 - Нет, только не я. Я не буду в это ввязываться.] muttered the head, vanishing.

The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment where I was formerly received.

It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the �missis,’ an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected. I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a seat. She looked at me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute.

�Rough weather!’ I remarked. �I’m afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff, the door must bear the consequence of your servants’ leisure attendance: I had hard work to make them hear me.’

She never opened her mouth. I stared she stared also: at any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable.

�Sit down,’ said the young man, gruffly. �He’ll be in soon.’

I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance.

�A beautiful animal!’ I commenced again. �Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?’

�They are not mine,’ said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied.

�Ah, your favourites are among these?’ I continued, turning to an obscure cushion full of something like cats.