mona lisa painting

`He's just like a dog, is he not, Ellen?' she once observed, `or a carthorse? He does his work, eats his food, and sleeps eternally! What a blank, dreary mind he must have! Do you ever dream, Hareton? And, if you do, what is it about? But you can't speak to me!'
Then she looked at him; but he would neither open his mouth nor look again.
`He's, perhaps, dreaming now,' she continued. `He twitched his shoulder as Juno twitches hers. Ask him, Ellen.'
`Mr Hareton will ask the master to send you upstairs, if you don't behave!' I said. He had not only twitched his shoulder but clenched his fist, as if tempted to use it.
`I know why Hareton never speaks, when I am in the kitchen,' she exclaimed, on another occasion. `He is afraid I shall laugh at him. Ellen, what do you think? He began to teach himself to read once; and because I laughed, he burned his books, and dropped it: was he not a fool?'
Were not you naughty?' I said; `answer me that.'
`Perhaps I was,' she went on; `but I did not expect him to be so silly. Hareton, if I gave you a book, would you take it now? I'll try!'
She placed one she had been perusing on his hand; he flung it off, and muttered, if she did not give over, he would break her neck.
"Well, I shall put it here,' she said, `in the table drawer; and I'm going to bed.'