Open the window again wide: fasten it open! Quick, why don't you move ?' 'Because I won't give you your death of cold,' I answered.
'You won't give me a chance of life, you mean,' she said, sullenly.
'However, I'm not helpless yet; I'll open it myself.' And sliding from the bed before I could hinder her, she crossed the room, walking very uncertainly, threw it back, and bent out, careless of the frosty air that cut about her shoulders as keen as a knife.

I entreated, and finally attempted to force her to retire.

But I soon found her delirious strength much surpassed mine (she was delirious, I became convinced by her subsequent actions and ravings).

There was no moon, and everything beneath lay in misty darkness: not a light gleamed from any house, far or near all had been extinguished long ago: and those at Wuthering Heights were never visible--still she asserted she caught their shining.
'Look!' she cried eagerly, 'that's my room with the candle in it, and the trees swaying before it; and the other candle is in Joseph's garret.
Joseph sits up late, doesn't he?
He's waiting till I come home that he may lock the gate.

Well, he'll wait a while yet.