“Where must I sleep, then?” I sobbed; I was beyond regarding self-respect, weighed down by fatigue and wretchedness.

“Joseph will show you Heathcliff’s chamber,” said he; “open that door⁠—he’s in there.”

I was going to obey, but he suddenly arrested me, and added in the strangest tone⁠—“Be so good as to turn your lock, and draw your bolt⁠—don’t omit it!”

“Well!” I said. “But why,

Mr.