Well, you dropped Linton with it into a Slough of Despond. He was in earnest: in love, really. As true as I live, he's dying for you; breaking his heart at your fickleness: not figuratively, but actually. Though Hareton has made him a standing jest for six weeks, and I have used more serious measures, and attempted to frighten him out of his idiocy, he gets worse daily; and he'll be under the sod before summer, unless you restore him!"
"How can you lie so glaringly to the poor child?" I called from the inside. "Pray ride on! How can you deliberately get up such paltry falsehoods? Miss Cathy, I'll knock the lock off with a stone: you won't believe that vile nonsense. You can feel in yourself it is impossible that a person should die for love of a stranger."

Well, you dropped Linton with it into a Slough of Despond. He was really in love. As true as I live, he's dying for you; actually breaking his heart at your fickleness. He gets worse daily; and he'll be dead before summer, unless you restore him!'
'How can you lie so to the poor child?' I called from the inside. 'Pray ride on! Cathy, don't you believe that vile nonsense.'
