Great Expectations

I looked at Wemmick, whose face was very grave. He gravely touched his

lips with his forefinger. I did the same. Mr. Jaggers did the same.

"Now, Wemmick," said the latter then, resuming his usual manner, "what

item was it you were at when Mr. Pip came in?"

Standing by for a little, while they were at work, I observed that the

odd looks they had cast at one another were repeated several times: with

this difference now, that each of them seemed suspicious, not to say

conscious, of having shown himself in a weak and unprofessional light to

the other. For this reason, I suppose, they were now inflexible with one

another; Mr. Jaggers being highly dictatorial, and Wemmick obstinately

justifying himself whenever there was the smallest point in abeyance for

a moment. I had never seen them on such ill terms; for generally they

got on very well indeed together.

But they were both happily relieved by the opportune appearance of Mike,

the client with the fur cap and the habit of wiping his nose on his

sleeve, whom I had seen on the very first day of my appearance within

those walls. This individual, who, either in his own person or in that

of some member of his family, seemed to be always in trouble (which in

that place meant Newgate), called to announce that his eldest daughter

was taken up on suspicion of shoplifting. As he imparted this melancholy

circumstance to Wemmick, Mr. Jaggers standing magisterially before the

fire and taking no share in the proceedings, Mike's eye happened to

twinkle with a tear.

"What are you about?" demanded Wemmick, with the utmost indignation.

"What do you come snivelling here for?"

"I didn't go to do it, Mr. Wemmick."

"You did," said Wemmick. "How dare you? You're not in a fit state to

come here, if you can't come here without spluttering like a bad pen.

What do you mean by it?"

"A man can't help his feelings, Mr. Wemmick," pleaded Mike.

"His what?" demanded Wemmick, quite savagely. "Say that again!"

"Now look here my man," said Mr. Jaggers, advancing a step, and pointing

to the door. "Get out of this office. I'll have no feelings here. Get

out."

"It serves you right," said Wemmick, "Get out."

So, the unfortunate Mike very humbly withdrew, and Mr. Jaggers and

Wemmick appeared to have re-established their good understanding, and

went to work again with an air of refreshment upon them as if they had

just had lunch.