Linton gathered his energies, and left the hearth. The lattice was open, and, as he stepped out, I heard Cathy inquiring of her unsociable attendant what was that inscription over the door? Hareton stared up, and scratched his head like a true clown.
"It's some damnable writing," he answered. "I cannot read it."
"Can't read it?" cried Catherine; "I can read it: it's English. But I want to know why it is there."
Linton giggled: the first appearance of mirth he had exhibited.

Linton gathered his energies, and left the hearth. The window was open, and, as he stepped out, I heard Cathy inquiring what was that inscription over the door? Hareton stared up, and scratched his head like a true clown.
'It's some damnable writing,' he answered. 'I cannot read it.'
'Can't read it?' cried Catherine.
Linton giggled. 