Therefore, not to mention his clothes, which had seen three months' service in mire and dust, and his thick uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was dismally beclouded.

He might well skulk behind the settle, on beholding such a bright, graceful damsel enter the house, instead of a rough-headed counterpart of himself, as he expected.

'Is Heathcliff not here ?' she demanded, pulling off her gloves, and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened with doing nothing and staying indoors.
'Heathcliff, you may come forward,' cried Mr.Hindley, enjoying his discomfiture, and gratified to see what a forbidding young blackguard he would be compelled to present himself.

'You may come and wish Miss Catherine welcome, like the other servants.' Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend in his concealment, flew to embrace him; she bestowed seven or eight kisses on his cheek within the 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.
'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.