Грозовой перевал / Wuthering Heights

Kenneth says he would wager his mare that he’ll outlive any man on this side Gimmerton, and go to the grave a hoary sinner; unless some happy chance out of the common course befall him.’

I went into the kitchen, and sat down to lull my little lamb to sleep. Heathcliff, as I thought, walked through to the barn. It turned out afterwards that he only got as far as the other side the settle, when he flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the fire and remained silent.

I was rocking Hareton on my knee, and humming a song that began, —

It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat,

The mither beneath the mools heard that,[31 - Цитата из поэмы Вальтера Скотта «Дева Озера» по мотивам шотландских баллад.

Это история о возмездии с элементами волшебства.]

when Miss Cathy, who had listened to the hubbub from her room, put her head in, and whispered, �Are you alone, Nelly?’

�Yes, Miss,’ I replied.

She entered and approached the hearth. I, supposing she was going to say something, looked up. The expression of her face seemed disturbed and anxious. Her lips were half asunder, as if she meant to speak, and she drew a breath; but it escaped in a sigh instead of a sentence. I resumed my song; not having forgotten her recent behaviour.

�Where’s Heathcliff?’ she said, interrupting me.

�About his work in the stable,’ was my answer.

He did not contradict me; perhaps he had fallen into a doze.

There followed another long pause, during which I perceived a drop or two trickle from Catherine’s cheek to the flags. Is she sorry for her shameful conduct? I asked myself. That will be a novelty: but she may come to the point as she will I sha’n’t help her! No, she felt small trouble regarding any subject, save her own concerns.

�Oh, dear!’ she cried at last. �I’m very unhappy!’

�A pity,’ observed I. �You’re hard to please; so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content!’

�Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?’ she pursued, kneeling down by me, and lifting her winsome eyes to my face with that sort of look which turns off bad temper, even when one has all the right in the world to indulge it.

�Is it worth keeping?’ I inquired, less sulkily.

�Yes, and it worries me, and I must let it out! I want to know what I should do.