For his life he could not avert that excess of emotion: mingled anguish and humiliation overcame him completely.

He leant on the back of a chair, and covered his face.
'Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood!' exclaimed Mrs.
Linton.

'We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of mice.

Cheer up! you sha'n't be hurt! Your type is not a lamb, it's a sucking leveret.' 'I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!' said her friend.

'I compliment you on your taste.