“He trembled, and his face glowed: all his rudeness and all his surly harshness had deserted him: he could not summon courage, at first, to utter a syllable in reply to her questioning look, and her murmured petition. 'Say you forgive me, Hareton, do. You can make me so happy by speaking that little word.'
He muttered something inaudible. 'And you'll be my friend?' added Catherine, interrogatively.
'Nay, you'll be ashamed of me every day of your life,' he answered; 'and the more ashamed, the more you know me; and I cannot bide it.'”