How she does stare! It's odd what a savage feeling I have to anything that seems afraid of me! Had I been born where laws are less strict and tastes less dainty, I should treat myself to a slow vivisection of those two, as an evening's amusement.' He drew in his breath, struck the table, and swore to himself, 'By hell! I hate them.' 'I am not afraid of you!' exclaimed Catherine, who could not hear the latter part of his speech.

She stepped close up; her black eyes flashing with passion and resolution.

'Give me that key: I will have it!' she said.

'I wouldn't eat or drink here, if I were starving.' Heathcliff had the key in his hand that remained on the table.

He looked up, seized with a sort of surprise at her boldness; or, possibly, reminded, by her voice and glance, of the person from whom she inherited it.