1 Hindley and I held it a favourite spot twenty years before.
2 Young Earnshaw was altered considerably in the three years of his absence.
3 I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting her husband.
4 Little Hareton was nearly five years old, and I had just begun to teach him his letters.
5 Yes: I remember her hero had run off, and never been heard of for three years; and the heroine was married.
6 And suppose Mr. Linton were spared till he saw sixty, that would be more years than you have counted, Miss.
7 Very young he looked: though his actual age was thirty-nine, one would have called him ten years younger, at least.
8 She did not know, she answered: she had only lived there a year or two; and they had so many queer goings on, she could not begin to be curious.
9 Fortunately its mother died before the time arrived; some thirteen years after the decease of Catherine, when Linton was twelve, or a little more.
10 Summer drew to an end, and early autumn: it was past Michaelmas, but the harvest was late that year, and a few of our fields were still uncleared.
11 That housekeeper left, if I recollect rightly, two years after he came; and another, whom I did not know, was her successor; she lives there still.
12 It was the same room into which he had been ushered, as a guest, eighteen years before: the same moon shone through the window; and the same autumn landscape lay outside.
13 Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be less touchy; and, for the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it.
14 She pointed to Hareton, the other individual, who had gained nothing but increased bulk and strength by the addition of two years to his age: he seemed as awkward and rough as ever.
15 One was about forty: a period of mental vigour at which men seldom cherish the delusion of being married for love by girls: that dream is reserved for the solace of our declining years.
16 But, supposing at twelve years old I had been wrenched from the Heights, and every early association, and my all in all, as Heathcliff was at that time, and been converted at a stroke into Mrs. Linton, the lady of Thrushcross Grange, and the wife of a stranger: an exile, and outcast, thenceforth, from what had been my world.