Quotation from: Wuthering Heights

Written by: Emily Bronte


'That is nothing to the purpose,' said Heathcliff. (He it was.)
'I don't hate my son, I suppose; and it is concerning him that I
demand your attention. Yes; you have cause to blush. Two or three
months since, were you not in the habit of writing to Linton?
making love in play, eh? You deserved, both of you, flogging for
that! You especially, the elder; and less sensitive, as it turns
out. I've got your letters, and if you give me any pertness I'll
send them to your father. I presume you grew weary of the
amusement and dropped it, didn't you? Well, you dropped Linton
with it into a Slough of Despond. He was in earnest: in love,
really. As true as I live, he's dying for you; breaking his heart
at your fickleness: not figuratively, but actually. Though
Hareton has made him a standing jest for six weeks, and I have used
more serious measures, and attempted to frighten him out of his
idiotcy, he gets worse daily; and he'll be under the sod before
summer, unless you restore him!'

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