Great Expectations
Page 204She looked up at me suddenly, only moving her eyes, and repeated in a
grimly playful manner,-"Well?"
"I heard, Miss Havisham," said I, rather at a loss, "that you were so
kind as to wish me to come and see you, and I came directly."
"Well?"
The lady whom I had never seen before, lifted up her eyes and looked
archly at me, and then I saw that the eyes were Estella's eyes. But she
was so much changed, was so much more beautiful, so much more womanly,
in all things winning admiration, had made such wonderful advance,
that I seemed to have made none. I fancied, as I looked at her, that
I slipped hopelessly back into the coarse and common boy again. O
the sense of distance and disparity that came upon me, and the
inaccessibility that came about her!
seeing her again, and about my having looked forward to it, for a long,
long time.
"Do you find her much changed, Pip?" asked Miss Havisham, with her
greedy look, and striking her stick upon a chair that stood between
them, as a sign to me to sit down there.
"When I came in, Miss Havisham, I thought there was nothing of Estella
in the face or figure; but now it all settles down so curiously into the
old--"
"What? You are not going to say into the old Estella?" Miss Havisham
interrupted. "She was proud and insulting, and you wanted to go away
from her. Don't you remember?"
I said confusedly that that was long ago, and that I knew no better
had no doubt of my having been quite right, and of her having been very
disagreeable.
"Is he changed?" Miss Havisham asked her.
"Very much," said Estella, looking at me.
"Less coarse and common?" said Miss Havisham, playing with Estella's
hair.
Estella laughed, and looked at the shoe in her hand, and laughed again,
and looked at me, and put the shoe down. She treated me as a boy still,
but she lured me on.
We sat in the dreamy room among the old strange influences which had
so wrought upon me, and I learnt that she had but just come home from
France, and that she was going to London. Proud and wilful as of old,
it was impossible and out of nature--or I thought so--to separate them
from her beauty. Truly it was impossible to dissociate her presence
from all those wretched hankerings after money and gentility that had
disturbed my boyhood,--from all those ill-regulated aspirations that had
first made me ashamed of home and Joe,--from all those visions that had
raised her face in the glowing fire, struck it out of the iron on the
anvil, extracted it from the darkness of night to look in at the wooden
window of the forge, and flit away. In a word, it was impossible for me
to separate her, in the past or in the present, from the innermost life
of my life.