"He paid for them, did he not?" asked Estella.

"It's not the question, my dear child, who paid for them," returned

Camilla. "I bought them. And I shall often think of that with peace,

when I wake up in the night."

The ringing of a distant bell, combined with the echoing of some cry or

call along the passage by which I had come, interrupted the conversation

and caused Estella to say to me, "Now, boy!" On my turning round, they

all looked at me with the utmost contempt, and, as I went out, I heard

Sarah Pocket say, "Well I am sure! What next!" and Camilla add, with

indignation, "Was there ever such a fancy! The i-de-a!"

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As we were going with our candle along the dark passage, Estella stopped

all of a sudden, and, facing round, said in her taunting manner, with

her face quite close to mine,-"Well?"

"Well, miss?" I answered, almost falling over her and checking myself.

She stood looking at me, and, of course, I stood looking at her.

"Am I pretty?"

"Yes; I think you are very pretty."

"Am I insulting?"

"Not so much so as you were last time," said I.

"Not so much so?"

"No."

She fired when she asked the last question, and she slapped my face with

such force as she had, when I answered it.

"Now?" said she. "You little coarse monster, what do you think of me

now?"

"I shall not tell you."

"Because you are going to tell up stairs. Is that it?"

"No," said I, "that's not it."

"Why don't you cry again, you little wretch?"

"Because I'll never cry for you again," said I. Which was, I suppose, as

false a declaration as ever was made; for I was inwardly crying for her

then, and I know what I know of the pain she cost me afterwards.

We went on our way up stairs after this episode; and, as we were going

up, we met a gentleman groping his way down.

"Whom have we here?" asked the gentleman, stopping and looking at me.

"A boy," said Estella.

He was a burly man of an exceedingly dark complexion, with an

exceedingly large head, and a corresponding large hand. He took my chin

in his large hand and turned up my face to have a look at me by the

light of the candle. He was prematurely bald on the top of his head, and

had bushy black eyebrows that wouldn't lie down but stood up bristling.

His eyes were set very deep in his head, and were disagreeably sharp and

suspicious. He had a large watch-chain, and strong black dots where his

beard and whiskers would have been if he had let them. He was nothing

to me, and I could have had no foresight then, that he ever would be

anything to me, but it happened that I had this opportunity of observing

him well.




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