the last supper painting

the last supper painting `Well, close the curtains, Nelly,' she said; `and bring up tea. I'll be back again directly.'
She quitted the apartment; Mr Edgar inquired, carelessly, who it was.
`Someone mistress does not expect,' I replied. `That Heathcliff--you recollect him, sir,--who used to live at Mr Earnshaw's.'
`What! the gipsy--the ploughboy?' he cried. `Why did you not say so to Catherine?'
`Hush! you must not call him by those names, master,' I said. `She'd be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off. I guess his return will make a jubilee to her.'
Mr Linton walked to a window on the other side of the room that overlooked the court. He unfastened it and leant out. I suppose they were below, for he exclaimed quickly--`Don't stand there, love! Bring the person in, if it be anyone particular.' Ere long I heard the click of the latch, and Catherine flew upstairs, breathless and wild; too excited to show gladness: indeed, by her face, you would rather have surmised an awful calamity.
the last supper painting
`Oh, Edgar, Edgar!' she panted, flinging her arms round his neck. `Oh Edgar, darling! Heathcliff's come back-he is!' And she tightened her embrace to a squeeze.
`Well, well,' cried her husband crossly, `don't strangle me for that! He never struck me as such a marvellous treasure. There is no need to be frantic!'
`I know you didn't like him,' she answered, repressing a little the intensity of her delight. `Yet, for my sake, you must be friends now. Shall I tell him to come up?'
`Here?' he said, `into the parlour?'
`Where else?' she asked.
He looked vexed, and suggested the kitchen as a more suitable place for him. Mrs Linton eyed him with a droll expression--half angry, half laughing at his fastidiousness.
the last supper painting