Great Expectations

This pale young gentleman quickly disappeared, and reappeared beside me.

He had been at his books when I had found myself staring at him, and I

now saw that he was inky.

"Halloa!" said he, "young fellow!"

Halloa being a general observation which I had usually observed to

be best answered by itself, I said, "Halloa!" politely omitting young

fellow.

"Who let you in?" said he.

"Miss Estella."

"Who gave you leave to prowl about?"

"Miss Estella."

"Come and fight," said the pale young gentleman.

What could I do but follow him? I have often asked myself the question

since; but what else could I do? His manner was so final, and I was

so astonished, that I followed where he led, as if I had been under a

spell.

"Stop a minute, though," he said, wheeling round before we had gone many

paces. "I ought to give you a reason for fighting, too. There it is!"

In a most irritating manner he instantly slapped his hands against one

another, daintily flung one of his legs up behind him, pulled my hair,

slapped his hands again, dipped his head, and butted it into my stomach.

The bull-like proceeding last mentioned, besides that it was

unquestionably to be regarded in the light of a liberty, was

particularly disagreeable just after bread and meat. I therefore hit out

at him and was going to hit out again, when he said, "Aha! Would you?"

and began dancing backwards and forwards in a manner quite unparalleled

within my limited experience.

"Laws of the game!" said he. Here, he skipped from his left leg on to

his right. "Regular rules!" Here, he skipped from his right leg on to

his left. "Come to the ground, and go through the preliminaries!" Here,

he dodged backwards and forwards, and did all sorts of things while I

looked helplessly at him.

I was secretly afraid of him when I saw him so dexterous; but I felt

morally and physically convinced that his light head of hair could have

had no business in the pit of my stomach, and that I had a right to

consider it irrelevant when so obtruded on my attention. Therefore, I

followed him without a word, to a retired nook of the garden, formed by

the junction of two walls and screened by some rubbish. On his asking me

if I was satisfied with the ground, and on my replying Yes, he begged my

leave to absent himself for a moment, and quickly returned with a bottle

of water and a sponge dipped in vinegar. "Available for both," he said,

placing these against the wall. And then fell to pulling off, not

only his jacket and waistcoat, but his shirt too, in a manner at once

light-hearted, business-like, and bloodthirsty.