Wuthering Heights. Emily Bronte

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      Two days later Yesterday afternoon was misty and bitterly cold, but I walked the four miles to Wuthering Heights and arrived just as it was beginning to snow. I banged on the front door for ten minutes, getting colder and colder. Finally Joseph’s head appeared at a window of one of the farm buildings.

      ‘What do you want?’ he growled.

      ‘Could you let me in?’ I asked desperately.

      He shook his head. ‘There’s only Mrs Heathcliff indoors, and she won’t open the door to you.’

      Just then a young man appeared and called me to follow him. We went through the back door and into the big room where I had been before. I was delighted to see a warm fire and a table full of food. And this time there was a woman sitting by the fire. She must be Mrs Heathcliff, I thought. I had not imagined my landlord was married. She looked at me coldly without saying anything.

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