1 Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech.
2 She stepped close up; her black eyes flashing with passion and resolution.
3 As soon as ever I had barred the door, utter blackness overwhelmed me, and I fell on the floor.
4 Heathcliff had opened the trinket and cast out its contents, replacing them by a black lock of his own.
5 On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb.
6 It was Zillah; donned in her scarlet shawl, with a black silk bonnet on her head, and a willow-basket swung to her arm.
7 A ray fell on his features; the cheeks were sallow, and half covered with black whiskers; the brows lowering, the eyes deep-set and singular.
8 The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade.
9 A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though stern for grace.
10 Joseph seemed sitting in a sort of elysium alone, beside a roaring fire; a quart of ale on the table near him, bristling with large pieces of toasted oat-cake; and his black, short pipe in his mouth.
11 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.
12 When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.