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1It was in this place, and at this moment, that a strange thing happened to my fancy. I thought it a strange thing then,
2and I thought it a stranger thing long afterwards. I turned my eyes--a little dimmed by looking up at the frosty
3light--towards a great wooden beam in a low nook of the building near me on my right hand, and I saw a figure hanging
4there by the neck. A figure all in yellow white, with but one shoe to the feet; and it hung so, that I could see that
5the faded trimmings of the dress were like earthy paper, and that the face was Miss Havisham's, with a movement going
6over the whole countenance as if she were trying to call to me. In the terror of seeing the figure, and in the terror of
7being certain that it had not been there a moment before, I at first ran from it, and then ran towards it. And my terror
8was greatest of all when I found no figure there. Nothing less than the frosty light of the cheerful sky, the sight of
9people passing beyond the bars of the court-yard gate, and the reviving influence of the rest of the bread and meat and
10beer, would have brought me round. Even with those aids, I might not have come to myself as soon as I did, but that I
11saw Estella approaching with the keys, to let me out. She would have some fair reason for looking down upon me, I
12thought, if she saw me frightened; and she would have no fair reason. She gave me a triumphant glance in passing me, as
13if she rejoiced that my hands were so coarse and my boots were so thick, and she opened the gate, and stood holding it.
14I was passing out without looking at her, when she touched me with a taunting hand. "Why don't you cry?" "Because I
15don't want to." "You do," said she. "You have been crying till you are half blind, and you are near crying again now."
16She laughed contemptuously, pushed me out, and locked the gate upon me. I went straight to Mr. Pumblechook's, and was
17immensely relieved to find him not at home. So, leaving word with the shopman on what day I was wanted at Miss
18Havisham's again, I set off on the four-mile walk to our forge; pondering, as I went along, on all I had seen, and
19deeply revolving that I was a common labouring-boy; that my hands were coarse; that my boots were thick; that I had
20fallen into a despicable habit of calling knaves Jacks; that I was much more ignorant than I had considered myself last
21night, and generally that I was in a low-lived bad way.
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