WUTHERING HEIGHTS (ĐỒI GIÓ HÚ) EMILY BRONTE CHAPTER 15 Đây là một tác phẩm anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng nâng cao chuyên ngành văn chương. Nhằm giúp các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh . | WUTHERING HEIGHTS ĐỒI GIÓ HÚ EMILY BRONTE CHAPTER 15 Another week over - and I am so many days nearer health and spring I have now heard all my neighbour s history at different sittings as the housekeeper could spare time from more important occupations. I ll continue it in her own words only a little condensed. She is on the whole a very fair narrator and I don t think I could improve her style. In the evening she said the evening of my visit to the Heights I knew as well as if I saw him that Mr. Heathcliff was about the place and I shunned going out because I still carried his letter in my pocket and didn t want to be threatened or teased any more. I had made up my mind not to give it till my master went somewhere as I could not guess how its receipt would affect Catherine. The consequence was that it did not reach her before the lapse of three days. The fourth was Sunday and I brought it into her room after the family were gone to church. There was a manservant left to keep the house with me and we generally made a practice of locking the doors during the hours of service but on that occasion the weather was so warm and pleasant that I set them wide open and to fulfil my engagement as I knew who would be coming I told my companion that the mistress wished very much for some oranges and he must run over to the village and get a few to be paid for on the morrow. He departed and I went up-stairs. Mrs. Linton sat in a loose white dress with a light shawl over her shoulders in the recess of the open window as usual. Her thick long hair had been partly removed at the beginning of her illness and now she wore it simply combed in its natural tresses over her temples and neck. Her appearance was altered as I had told Heathcliff but when she was calm there seemed unearthly beauty in the change. The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness they no longer gave the impression of looking at the objects around her they appeared always to gaze .
