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Chapter 1

--I have just returned from a visit to my
landlord--the solitary neighbour that I
shall be troubled with. This is certainly a
beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have
fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society.
A perfect misanthropist’s heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are
such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital
fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him
when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their
brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves,
with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I
announced my name.

“Mr. Heathcliff?” I said.
A nod was the answer.
“Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of
calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope
that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in
soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday
you had had some thoughts--”

“Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,” he interrupted, wincing.
“I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder
it--walk in!”

The “walk in” was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the
sentiment, “Go to the Deuce”; even the gate over which he leant
manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think
that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt
interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved

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