One Moment in Time

One Moment in Time
precious time
Red Hat Girl
Red Nude painting
`Mrs Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law,' said Heathcliff, corroborating my surmise. He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction: a look of hatred; unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.
`Ah, certainly--I see now: you are the favoured possessor of the beneficent fairy,' I remarked, turning to my neighbour.
This was worse than before: the youth grew crimson, and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seemed to recollect himself presently, and smothered the storm in a brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to notice.
`Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,' observed my host; `we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law, therefore, she must have married my son.'
`And this young man is--'
`Not my son, assuredly.'
oil painting
Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him.
`My name is Hareton Earnshaw,' growled the other; `and I'd counsel you to respect it!'
`I've shown no disrespect,' was my reply, laughing internally at the dignity with which he announced himself.