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Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
page 64 of 431 (14%)

'I did not mean to laugh at you,' she said; 'I could not hinder
myself: Heathcliff, shake hands at least! What are you sulky for?
It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face and brush
your hair, it will be all right: but you are so dirty!'

She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held in her own, and
also at her dress; which she feared had gained no embellishment
from its contact with his.

'You needn't have touched me!' he answered, following her eye and
snatching away his hand. 'I shall be as dirty as I please: and I
like to be dirty, and I will be dirty.'

With that he dashed headforemost out of the room, amid the
merriment of the master and mistress, and to the serious
disturbance of Catherine; who could not comprehend how her remarks
should have produced such an exhibition of bad temper.

After playing lady's-maid to the new-comer, and putting my cakes in
the oven, and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great
fires, befitting Christmas-eve, I prepared to sit down and amuse
myself by singing carols, all alone; regardless of Joseph's
affirmations that he considered the merry tunes I chose as next
door to songs. He had retired to private prayer in his chamber,
and Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging Missy's attention by sundry
gay trifles bought for her to present to the little Lintons, as an
acknowledgment of their kindness. They had invited them to spend
the morrow at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been
accepted, on one condition: Mrs. Linton begged that her darlings
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