Great Expectations

My hands had been dressed twice or thrice in the night, and again in

the morning. My left arm was a good deal burned to the elbow, and, less

severely, as high as the shoulder; it was very painful, but the flames

had set in that direction, and I felt thankful it was no worse. My right

hand was not so badly burnt but that I could move the fingers. It was

bandaged, of course, but much less inconveniently than my left hand and

arm; those I carried in a sling; and I could only wear my coat like a

cloak, loose over my shoulders and fastened at the neck. My hair had

been caught by the fire, but not my head or face.

When Herbert had been down to Hammersmith and seen his father, he came

back to me at our chambers, and devoted the day to attending on me. He

was the kindest of nurses, and at stated times took off the bandages,

and steeped them in the cooling liquid that was kept ready, and put them

on again, with a patient tenderness that I was deeply grateful for.

At first, as I lay quiet on the sofa, I found it painfully difficult, I

might say impossible, to get rid of the impression of the glare of the

flames, their hurry and noise, and the fierce burning smell. If I

dozed for a minute, I was awakened by Miss Havisham's cries, and by her

running at me with all that height of fire above her head. This pain

of the mind was much harder to strive against than any bodily pain I

suffered; and Herbert, seeing that, did his utmost to hold my attention

engaged.

Neither of us spoke of the boat, but we both thought of it. That

was made apparent by our avoidance of the subject, and by our

agreeing--without agreement--to make my recovery of the use of my hands

a question of so many hours, not of so many weeks.

My first question when I saw Herbert had been of course, whether all

was well down the river? As he replied in the affirmative, with perfect

confidence and cheerfulness, we did not resume the subject until the day

was wearing away. But then, as Herbert changed the bandages, more by

the light of the fire than by the outer light, he went back to it

spontaneously.

"I sat with Provis last night, Handel, two good hours."

"Where was Clara?"

"Dear little thing!" said Herbert. "She was up and down with

Gruffandgrim all the evening. He was perpetually pegging at the floor

the moment she left his sight. I doubt if he can hold out long, though.

What with rum and pepper,--and pepper and rum,--I should think his

pegging must be nearly over."