'It will certainly annoy Mr.Heathcliff, and he'll be mad at you both.' 'I'm not going to,' she answered.
The minute after, she had sidled to him, and was sticking primroses in his plate of porridge.
He dared not speak to her there: he dared hardly look; and yet she went on teasing, till he was twice on the point of being provoked to laugh.

I frowned, and then she glanced towards the master: whose mind was occupied on other subjects than his company, as his countenance evinced; and she grew serious for an instant, scrutinizing him with deep gravity.
Afterwards she turned, and recommenced her nonsense; at last, Hareton uttered a smothered laugh.

Mr.Heathcliff started; his eye rapidly surveyed our faces, Catherine met it with her accustomed look of nervousness and yet defiance, which he abhorred.
'It is well you are out of my reach,' he exclaimed.

'What fiend possesses you to stare back at me, continually, with those infernal eyes?
Down with them! and don't remind me of your existence again.

I thought I had cured you of laughing.' 'It was me,' muttered Hareton.
'What do you say ?' demanded the master.
Hareton looked at his plate, and did not repeat the confession.