Good evening. Welcome to the Just Sleep podcast. I'm Tasia, your host.

Every week, I will read you an old story to help you relax, put the stressful day behind you, and drift off to sleep.

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Tonight, I will be reading Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.

So lie down, close your eyes, and let me read you a story.

Chapter 1, 1801.

I have just returned from a visit to my landlord, a solitary neighbor that I shall be troubled with.

This is certainly a beautiful country.

In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society, a perfect misanthropist's heaven.

And Mr. Heathcliff and I, are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us, a capital fellow.

He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so

suspiciously under their brows as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves with a jealous

resolution still fervent as waistcoat as I announced my name.

Mr Heathcliff, I said. A nod was the answer. Mr. Lockwood, you're a new tenant, sir.

I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival to express the hope that I have

not inconvenience to by my perseverance in soliciting the hope that I have not inconvenienced to you by my perseverance

in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange.

I heard yesterday you'd had some thoughts.

Thresh Cross Grange is my own, sir, he interrupted, wincing.

...