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Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
page 14 of 431 (03%)

I thought, if I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an
effort to dispel it. They could not every day sit so grim and
taciturn; and it was impossible, however ill-tempered they might
be, that the universal scowl they wore was their every-day
countenance.

'It is strange,' I began, in the interval of swallowing one cup of
tea and receiving another - 'it is strange how custom can mould our
tastes and ideas: many could not imagine the existence of
happiness in a life of such complete exile from the world as you
spend, Mr. Heathcliff; yet, I'll venture to say, that, surrounded
by your family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius
over your home and heart - '

'My amiable lady!' he interrupted, with an almost diabolical sneer
on his face. 'Where is she - my amiable lady?'

'Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean.'

'Well, yes - oh, you would intimate that her spirit has taken the
post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering
Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?'

Perceiving myself in a blunder, I attempted to correct it. I might
have seen there was too great a disparity between the ages of the
parties to make it likely that they were man and wife. One was
about forty: a period of mental vigour at which men seldom cherish
the delusion of being married for love by girls: that dream is
reserved for the solace of our declining years. The other did not
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