1 The young man had been washing himself, as was visible by the glow on his cheeks and his wetted hair.
2 He had his hand in her hair; Hareton attempted to release her locks, entreating him not to hurt her that once.
3 Heathcliff had knelt on one knee to embrace her; he attempted to rise, but she seized his hair, and kept him down.
4 The long light hair curled slightly on the temples; the eyes were large and serious; the figure almost too graceful.
5 Something stirred in the porch; and, moving nearer, I distinguished a tall man dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair.
6 His hair and clothes were whitened with snow, and his sharp cannibal teeth, revealed by cold and wrath, gleamed through the dark.
7 Her pretty face was wan and listless; her hair uncurled: some locks hanging lankly down, and some carelessly twisted round her head.
8 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.
9 About the middle of the night, I was wakened from my first nap by Mrs. Linton gliding into my chamber, taking a seat on my bedside, and pulling me by the hair to rouse me.
10 I hasped the window; I combed his black long hair from his forehead; I tried to close his eyes: to extinguish, if possible, that frightful, life-like gaze of exultation before any one else beheld it.
11 But the uproar passed away in twenty minutes, leaving us all unharmed; excepting Cathy, who got thoroughly drenched for her obstinacy in refusing to take shelter, and standing bonnetless and shawl-less to catch as much water as she could with her hair and clothes.
12 She certainly seemed in no laughing predicament: her hair streamed on her shoulders, dripping with snow and water; she was dressed in the girlish dress she commonly wore, befitting her age more than her position: a low frock with short sleeves, and nothing on either head or neck.
13 Mr. Heathcliff paused and wiped his forehead; his hair clung to it, wet with perspiration; his eyes were fixed on the red embers of the fire, the brows not contracted, but raised next the temples; diminishing the grim aspect of his countenance, but imparting a peculiar look of trouble, and a painful appearance of mental tension towards one absorbing subject.