Great Expectations

I calculated the consequences of replying "Four Hundred Pound," and

finding them against me, went as near the answer as I could--which was

somewhere about eightpence off. Mr. Pumblechook then put me through my

pence-table from "twelve pence make one shilling," up to "forty pence

make three and fourpence," and then triumphantly demanded, as if he had

done for me, "Now! How much is forty-three pence?" To which I replied,

after a long interval of reflection, "I don't know." And I was so

aggravated that I almost doubt if I did know.

Mr. Pumblechook worked his head like a screw to screw it out of me,

and said, "Is forty-three pence seven and sixpence three fardens, for

instance?"

"Yes!" said I. And although my sister instantly boxed my ears, it was

highly gratifying to me to see that the answer spoilt his joke, and

brought him to a dead stop.

"Boy! What like is Miss Havisham?" Mr. Pumblechook began again when

he had recovered; folding his arms tight on his chest and applying the

screw.

"Very tall and dark," I told him.

"Is she, uncle?" asked my sister.

Mr. Pumblechook winked assent; from which I at once inferred that he had

never seen Miss Havisham, for she was nothing of the kind.

"Good!" said Mr. Pumblechook conceitedly. ("This is the way to have him!

We are beginning to hold our own, I think, Mum?") "I am sure, uncle," returned Mrs. Joe, "I wish you had him always; you

know so well how to deal with him."

"Now, boy! What was she a doing of, when you went in today?" asked Mr.

Pumblechook.

"She was sitting," I answered, "in a black velvet coach."

Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another--as they well

Might--and both repeated, "In a black velvet coach?"

"Yes," said I. "And Miss Estella--that's her niece, I think--handed her

in cake and wine at the coach-window, on a gold plate. And we all had

cake and wine on gold plates. And I got up behind the coach to eat mine,

because she told me to."

"Was anybody else there?" asked Mr. Pumblechook.

"Four dogs," said I.

"Large or small?"

"Immense," said I. "And they fought for veal-cutlets out of a silver

basket."

Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another again, in utter

amazement. I was perfectly frantic,--a reckless witness under the

torture,--and would have told them anything.