wisht, dry thy eyes-there's a joy; kiss me. What! it won't? Kiss me, Hareton! Damn thee, kiss me! By God, as if I would rear such a monster! As sure as I'm living, I'll break the brat's neck."

Dry thy eyes - kiss me. What! it won't? Kiss me, Hareton! Damn thee, kiss me! By God, what a monster! I'll break the brat's neck.'
