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second, and then stopped, and drawing back, burst into a laugh, exclaiming, `Why, how very black and cross you look! and how--how funny and grim! But that's because I'm used to Edgar and Isabella Linton. Well, Heathcliff, have you forgotten me?'
She had some reason to put the question, for shame and pride threw double gloom over his countenance, and kept him immovable.
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`Shake hands, Heathcliff,' said Mr Earnshaw, condescendingly; `once in a way, that is permitted.'
`I shall not,' replied the boy, finding his tongue at last; `I shall not stand to be laughed at. I shall not bear it!'
And he would have broken from the circle, but Miss Cathy seized him again.
`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!'
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