Грозовой перевал / Wuthering Heights

As I listen to the wind, the sound begins to change and I hear that ghostly voice once more. Again and again, I hear it crying, В«Let me in, Let me in!В» But when I run to the window, there is no one there, and the only sound I can hear is the wind wuthering over the moors.

Ever since my stay in Yorkshire, I have been troubled by bad dreams. In these dreams, I’m always in the same place… the small, bare bedroom at Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights – that it is the name of the house where my story begins.

I’ve often wished that I had never set foot inside its door…

I have just returned from Wuthering Heights – the loneliest house you could ever imagine. The ancient stone farmhouse stands high up on the moors, blank-faced and grim, with a hedge of stunted trees bent almost double by the wind. Wuthering Heights is the home of Mr. Heathcliff, who also owns Thrushcross Grange[2 - Thrushcross Grange – «Мыза Скворцов» (в противоположность Wuthering Heights, это место, где жизнь протекает спокойно и умиротворенно)], the house where I am staying.

So, once I had settled into my rooms at the Grange, I thought it would be polite to visit my landlord, up at the Heights.

It was a hard ride across the moors, and as I approached Wuthering Heights, I was pleased to see a man who I thought must be Heathcliff, leaning on his garden gate, and gazing out over the moors.

He was tall and wild-looking, with a mane of thick, dark hair, and as I came nearer, he seemed to shrink away from me, scowling up from under heavy, black eyebrows.

В«Mr. Heathcliff?В» I asked politely.

The man nodded.

«Let my introduce myself, sir,» I continued. «I am Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, and I hope I won’t be troubling you too much if…»

«I don’t allow anyone to trouble me,» he interrupted rudely.

Then, after a pause, he added gruffly, В«Walk in!В»

Heathcliff showed me into a large sitting room. The room was dark and plainly furnished, with an enormous fireplace and some vicious-looking pistols hanging on the wall. In one corner, a huge hound was curled up in a basket, surrounded by a mass of squealing puppies, and I could just make out some other large dogs hiding in the shadows.