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Great Expectations - Chapter 18
Episode 1818th November 2023 • Bite at a Time Books • Bree Carlile
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Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the eighteenth chapter of Great Expectations.

Come with us as we release one bite a day of one of your favorite classic novels, plays & short stories. Bree reads these classics like she reads to her daughter, one chapter a day. If you love books or audiobooks and want something to listen to as you're getting ready, driving to work, or as you're getting ready for bed, check out Bite at a Time Books!

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San the book and let's see what we can find.

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Take it chapter by chapter, One bite at a time so many adventures and mountains we can climb take it word for word like by line.

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One bite at a time.

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My name is Brie Carlyle and I love to read and wanted to share my passion with listeners like you.

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Be sure to follow my show on your favorite podcast platform so you get all the new episodes.

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You can find most of our links in the show notes, but also our website, Bytetimebooks.com, includes all of the links for our show, including to our Patreon to support the show and YouTube, where we have special behind the narration of the episodes.

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We're part of the Bite at a Time Books Productions network.

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If you'd also like to hear what inspired your favorite classic authors to write their novels and what was going on in the world at the time, check out the bite at a Time Books behind the Story podcast.

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Wherever you listen to podcasts, please note, while we try to keep the text as close to the original as possible, some words have been changed to honor the marginalized communities who've identified the words as harmful and to stay in alignment with bite at a time book's brand values.

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Today we'll be continuing great Expectations by Charles Dickens Chapter 18 it was in the fourth year of my apprenticeship to Joe, and it was a Saturday night.

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There was a group assembled round the fire at the three Jolly Bargemen, attentive to Mr.

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Wapsel as he read the newspaper aloud.

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Of that group, I was one.

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A highly popular murder had been committed, and Mr.

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Wapsel was embrued in blood to the eyebrows.

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He gloated over every abhorrent adjective in the description and identified himself with every witness at the inquest.

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He faintly moaned, I'm done for as the victim, and he barbarously bellowed, I'll serve you out as the murderer.

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He gave the medical testimony in pointed imitation of our local practitioner, and he piped and shook as the age turnpike keeper who had heard blows to an extent so very paralytic as to suggest a doubt regarding the mental competency of that witness.

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The coroner in Mr.

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Wapsel's hands became Timon of Athens, the Beetle Corlonius.

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He enjoyed himself thoroughly, and we all enjoyed ourselves and were delightfully comfortable in this cozy state of mind.

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We came to the verdict.

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Willful murder then, and not sooner.

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I became aware of a strange gentleman.

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Leaning over the back of the settle opposite me, looking on.

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There was an expression of contempt on his face, and he bit the side of a great forefinger as he watched the group of faces.

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Well, said the stranger to Mr.

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Wapsel, when the reading was done.

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You've settled it all to your own satisfaction, I have no doubt.

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Everybody started and looked up as if it were the murderer.

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He looked at everybody coldly and sarcastically.

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Guilty, of course, said he.

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How'd with it come, sir?

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Returned Mr.

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Wapsel.

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Without having the honor of your acquaintance, I do say guilty.

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Upon this we all took courage to unite in a confirmatory murmur.

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I know you do, said the stranger.

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I knew you would.

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I told you so.

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But now I'll ask you a question.

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Do you know or do you not know.

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That the law of England supposeds every man to be innocent until he is proved proved to be guilty?

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Sir?

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Mr.

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Wapsel began to reply.

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As an Englishman myself, I.

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Come, said the stranger, biting his forefinger at him.

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Don't evade the question.

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Either you know it or you don't know it.

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Which is it to be?

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He stood with his head on one side and himself on one side in a bullying, interrogative manner.

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And he threw his forefinger at Mr.

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Wapsel, as it were, to mark him out before biting it again.

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Now, said he, do you know it or don't you know it?

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Certainly I know it, replied Mr.

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Wapsel.

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Certainly you know it.

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Then why didn't you say so at first?

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Now I'll ask you another question.

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Taking possession of Mr.

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Wapsel as if he had a right to him.

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Do you know that none of these witnesses have yet been cross examined?

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Mr.

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Wapsel was beginning, I can only say when the stranger stopped him.

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What?

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You won't answer the question yes or no?

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Now I'll try you again.

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Throwing his finger at him again.

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Attend to me.

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Are you aware or are you not aware.

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That none of these witnesses have yet been cross examined?

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Come, I only want one word from you.

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Yes or no?

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Mr.

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Wapsel hesitated, and we all began to conceive rather a poor opinion of him.

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Come, said the stranger.

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I'll help you.

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You don't deserve help, but I'll help you.

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Look at that paper you hold in your hand.

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What is it?

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What is it?

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Repeated Mr.

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Wapsel, eyeing it much at a loss.

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It is, pursued the stranger, in his most sarcastic and suspicious manner.

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The printed paper you've just been reading from.

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Undoubtedly.

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Undoubtedly.

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Now turn to that paper and tell me whether it distinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that his legal advisors instructed him altogether to reserve his defense.

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I read that just now, Mr.

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Wapsel pleaded.

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Never mind what you read just now, sir.

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I don't ask you what you read just now.

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You may read the Lord's Prayer backwards, if you like, and perhaps you've done it before today.

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Turn to the.

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No, no, my friend.

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Not to the top of the column.

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You know better than that.

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To the bottom.

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To the bottom.

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We all began to think Mr.

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Wapsel, full of sutterfuge.

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Well, have you found it?

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Here it is, said Mr.

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Wapsel.

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Now follow that passage with your eye and tell me whether it distinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that he was instructed by his legal advisors wholly to reserve his defense.

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Come, do you make that of it?

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Mr.

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Wapsel answered.

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Those are not the exact words.

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Not the exact words?

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Repeated the gentleman bitterly.

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Is that the exact substance?

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Yes, said Mr.

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Wapsel.

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Yes, repeated the stranger, looking round at the rest of the company with his right hand extended towards the witness.

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Wapsel.

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And now I ask you what you say to the conscience of that man who, with that passage before his eyes, can lay his head upon his pillow.

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After having pronounced a fellow creature guilty unheard, we all began to suspect that Mr.

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Wapsel was not the man we had thought him.

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And that he was beginning to be found out.

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And that same man, remember, pursued the gentleman, throwing his finger at Mr.

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Wapsel heavily.

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That same man might be summoned as a jury man upon this very trial.

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And having thus deeply committed himself, might return to the bosom of his family and lay his head upon his pillow.

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After deliberately swearing that he would well and truly try the issue joined between our sovereign lord the King and the prisoner at the bar.

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And would a true verdict give according to the evidence, so help him God?

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We were all deeply persuaded that the unfortunate Wapsel had gone too far.

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And had better stop in his reckless career, while there was yet time.

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The strange gentleman, with an air of authority not to be disputed.

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And with a manner expressive of knowing something secret about every one of us.

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That would effectually do for each individual, if he chose to disclose it, left the back of the settle and came into the space between the two settles in front of the fire, where he remained standing, his left hand in his pocket.

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And he, biting the forefinger of his right.

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From information I have received, said he, looking round at us all, we quailed before him.

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I have reason to believe there's a blacksmith among you by name Joseph or Joe Gardery.

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Which is the man here?

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Is the man, said Joe.

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A strange gentleman beckoned him out of his place and Joe went.

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You have an apprentice?

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Pursued the stranger commonly known as Pip.

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Is he here?

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I am here.

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I cried.

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A stranger did not recognize me, but I recognized him as the gentleman I had met on the stairs on the occasion of my second visit to Miss Havisham.

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I'd known him the moment I saw him look over the settle, and now that I stood confronting him with his hand upon my shoulder, I checked off again in detail his large head, his dark complexion, his deep set eyes, his bushy black eyebrows, his large watch chain, his strong black dots of beard and whisker, and even the smell of scented soap on its great hand.

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I wish to have a private conference with you two, said he, when he had surveyed me at his leisure.

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It will take a little time.

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Perhaps we'd better go to your place of residence.

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I prefer not to anticipate my communication here.

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You will impart as much or as little of it as you please, dear friends.

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Afterwards.

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I have nothing to do with that.

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Amidst a wondering silence, we three walked out of the Jolly bargeman, and in a wondering silence walked home.

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While going along, the strange gentleman occasionally looked at me and occasionally bit the side of his finger.

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As we neared home, Joe, vaguely acknowledging the occasion as an impressive and ceremonious one, went on ahead to open the front door.

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Our conference was held in the state parlor, which was feebly lighted by one candle.

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It began with the strange gentleman sitting down at the table, drawing the candle to him and looking over some entries in his pocketbook.

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He then put up the pocketbook and set the candle a little aside.

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After peering rounded into the darkness at Joe and me to ascertain which was which.

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My name, he said, is Jaggers, and I am a lawyer in London.

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I'm pretty well known.

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I have unusual business to transact with you, and I commence by explaining that it is not of my originating.

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If my advice had been asked, I should not have been here.

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It was not asked.

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And you see me here, what I have to do.

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As the confidential agent of another I do no less, no more.

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Finding that he could not see us very well from where he sat, he got up and threw one leg over the back of a chair and leaned upon it, thus having 1ft on the seat of the chair and 1ft on the ground.

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Now, Joseph Gardery, I am the bearer of an offer to relieve you of this young fellow, your apprentice.

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He would not object to cancel his indentures at his request and for his good.

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You would want nothing for so doing.

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Lord forbid that I should want anything.

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For not standing in Pip's way, said Joe, staring.

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Lord forbidding is pious, but not to the purpose.

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Returned Mr.

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Jaggers.

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The question is, would you want anything?

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Do you want anything?

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The answer is, returned Joe sternly.

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No, I thought.

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Mr.

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Jaggers glanced at Joe as if he considered him a fool for his disinterestedness, but I was too much bewildered between breathless curiosity and surprise to be sure of it.

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Very well, said Mr.

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Jaggers.

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Recollect the admission you have made, and don't try to go from it presently.

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Who's going to try?

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Retorted Joe.

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I don't say anybody is.

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Do you keep a dog?

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Yes, I do keep a dog.

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Bear in mind, then, that Bragg is a good dog, but hold fast is a better.

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Bear that in mind, will you?

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Repeated Mr.

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Jaggers, shutting his eyes and nodding his head at Joe as if he were forgiving him something.

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Now I return to this young fellow, and the communication I've got to make is that he has great expectations.

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Joe and I gasped and looked at one another.

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I am instructed to communicate to him, said Mr.

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Jaggers, throwing his finger at me sideways, that he will come into a handsome property.

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Further, that it is the desire of the present possessor of that property that he be immediately removed from his present sphere of life and from this place and be brought up as a gentleman.

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In a word, as a young fellow of great expectations.

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My dream was out.

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My wild fancy was surpassed by sober reality.

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Miss Havisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale.

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Now, Mr.

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Pip, pursued the lawyer, I address the rest of what I have to say to you.

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You are to understand first that it is the request of the person from whom I take my instructions that you always bear the name of Pip.

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You will have no objection, I dare say, to your great expectations being encumbered with that easy condition.

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But if you have any objection, this is the time to mention it.

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My heart was beating so fast and there was such a singing in my ears that I could scarcely stammer.

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I had no objection.

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I should think not.

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Now you are to understand, secOndly, Mr.

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Pip, that the name of the person who is your liberal benefactor remains a profound secret until the person chooses to reveal it.

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I am empowered to mention that it is the intention of the person to reveal it at firsthand, by word of mouth.

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To yourself.

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When or where that intention may be carried out, I cannot say.

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No one can say.

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It may be years hence now.

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You are distinctly to understand that you are most positively prohibited from making any inquiry on this head, or any illusion or reference, however distant, to any individual, whomsoever as the individual in all the communications you may have with me.

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If you have a suspicion in your own breast, keep that suspicion in your own breast.

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It is not the least to the purpose what the reasons of this prohibition are.

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They may be the strongest and gravest reasons, or they may be mere whim.

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This is not for you to inquire into.

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The condition is laid down.

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Your acceptance of it and your observance of it is binding is the only remaining condition that I am charged with by the person from whom I take my instructions and for whom I am not otherwise responsible.

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That person is the person from whom you derive your expectations, and the secret is solely held by that person and by me.

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Again, not a very difficult condition with which to encumber such a rise in fortune.

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But if you have any objection to it, this is the time to mention it.

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Speak out once more.

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I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.

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I should think not now, Mr.

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Pip.

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I have done with stipulations.

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Though he called me Mr.

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Pip and began rather to make up to me, he still could not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion, and even now he occasionally shut his eyes and threw his finger at me while he spoke as much to express that he knew all kinds of things to my disparagement, if he only chose to mention them.

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We come next to mere details of arrangement.

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You must know that although I have used the term expectations more than once, you are not endowed with expectations only.

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There's already lodged in my hands a sum of money amply sufficient for your suitable education and maintenance.

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You will please consider me your guardian.

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Oh, if I was going to thank him.

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I tell you at once I am paid for my services or I shouldn't render them.

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It is considered that you must be better educated in accordance with your altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance and necessity of at once entering on that advantage.

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I said I had always longed for it.

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Never mind what you've always longed for, Mr.

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Pip, he retorted.

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Keep to the record if you long for it.

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Now that's enough.

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Am I answered, that you are ready to be placed at once under some proper tutor?

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Is that it?

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I stammered.

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Yes, that was it.

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Good.

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Now your inclinations are to be consulted.

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I don't think that wise mind.

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But it's my trust.

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Have you ever heard of any tutor whom you would prefer to another?

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I had never heard of any tutor but Biddy and Mr.

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Wapsel's great aunt.

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So I replied in the negative.

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There is a certain tutor of whom I have some knowledge who I think might suit the purpose, said Mr.

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Jaggers.

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I don't recommend him.

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Observe, because I never recommend anybody.

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The gentleman I speak of is one Mr.

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Matthew Pocket.

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I caught it, the name directly.

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Miss Havisham's relation.

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The Matthew whom Mr.

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And Mrs.

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Camilla had spoken of.

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The Matthew whose place was to be at Miss Havisham's head when she lay dead in her bride's dress on the bride's table.

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You know the name, said Mr.

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Jaggers, looking shrewdly at me, and then shutting up his eyes while he waited for my answer.

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My answer was that I had heard of the name.

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Oh, said he, you have heard of the name, but the question is, what do you say of it?

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I said, or tried to say, that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation.

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No, my young friend, he interrupted, shaking his great head very slowly.

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Recollect yourself.

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Not recollecting myself, I began again that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation.

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No, my young friend, he interrupted, shaking his head and frowning and smiling both at once.

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No, no, it is very well done, but it won't do.

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You are too young to fix me with it.

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Recommendation is not the word, Mr.

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Pipp.

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Try another.

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Correcting myself, I said that I was much obliged to him for the mention of Mr.

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Matthew Pocket.

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That's more like it.

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Cried Mr.

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Jaggers, and I added, I would gladly try that gentleman.

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Good.

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You had better try him in his own house.

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The way shall be prepared for you.

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And you can see his son first, who's in London.

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When will you come to London?

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I said, glancing at Joe, who stood looking on, motionless, that I supposed I could come directly.

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First, said Mr.

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Jaggers, you should have some new clothes to come in, and they should not be working.

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Clothes.

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Say this day week.

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You want some money?

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Shall I leave you 20 guineas?

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He produced a long purse with the greatest coolness and counted them out on the table and pushed them over to me.

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This was the first time he had taken his leg from the chair.

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He sat at stride of the chair when he had pushed the money over, and sat swinging his purse and eyeing Joe.

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Well, Joseph Gardery, you look dumbfoundered.

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I am, said Joe in a very decided manner.

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It was understood that you wanted nothing for yourself.

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Remember it were understood, said Joe, and.

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It are understood, and it ever will be similar according.

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But what?

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Said Mr.

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Jagger, swinging his purse.

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What if it was in my instructions to make you a present?

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A compensation?

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As compensation?

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What for?

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Joe demanded.

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For the loss of his services.

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Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman.

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I have often thought him since, like the steam hammer that can crush a man or pat an eggshell in his combination of strength with gentleness.

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Pip is that hearty welcome, said Joe, to go free with his services, to honor and forerun, as no words can tell him.

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But if you think his money can make compensation to me for the loss of the little child would come to the forge, and ever the best of friends.

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Oh, dear, good Joe, whom I was so ready to leave and so un thankful to.

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I see you again with your muscular blacksmith's arm before your eyes and your broad chest heaving and your voice dying away.

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Oh, dear, good, faithful, Tender Joe.

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I feel the loving tremble of your hand upon my arm as solemnly this day as if it had been the rustle of Angel's wing.

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But I encouraged Joe at the time.

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I was lost in the mazes of my future fortunes, and could not retrace the bypass we had trodden together.

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I begged Joe to be comforted, for, as he said, we had ever been the best of friends, and, as I said, we ever would be.

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So Joe scooped his eyes with his disengaged wrist, as if he were bent on gouging himself, but said not another word.

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Mr.

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Jaggers had looked on at this as one who recognized in Joe the village idiot, and in me his keeper.

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When it was over, he said, weighing in his hands, the Percy had ceased to swing.

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Now, Joseph Gardery, I warn you, this is your last chance.

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No half measures with me.

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If you mean to take a present, that I have it in charge to make, you speak out, and you shall have it.

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If, on the contrary, you mean to say here, to his great amazement, he was stopped by Joe suddenly working round him with every demonstration of a fell pugilistic purpose.

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What I mean to say, cried Joe.

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That if you come into my place bull baiting and badgering me, come out.

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What I mean to say is such.

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If you're a man, come on.

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What I mean to say that what I say, I mean to say, and.

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I stand or fall by.

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I drew Joe away, and he immediately became placable, merely stating to me in an obliging manner and as a polite expulsatory notice to anyone whom it might happen to.

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Concern that he were not going to be bull baited and badgered in his own place.

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Mr.

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Jaggers had risen when Joe demonstrated and had backed near the door without evincing any inclination to come in again, he there delivered his valedictory remarks.

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They were these.

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Well, Mr.

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Pip, I think the sooner you leave here as you are to be a gentleman, the better.

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Let it stand for this day week, and you shall receive my printed address.

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In the meantime, you can take a Hackney coach at the stagecoach office in London and come straight to me.

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Understand that I express no opinion one way or other on the trust I undertake.

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I am paid for undertaking it, and I do so now understand that.

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Finally understand that he was throwing his finger at both of us, and I think I would have gone on, but for his seeming to think Joe dangerous and going off.

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Something came into my head which induced me to run after him.

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As he was going down to the jolly bargeman where he had left a hired carriage.

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I beg your pardon, Mr.

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Jaggers.

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Hello, said he, facing round.

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What's the matter?

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I wish to be quite right, Mr.

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Jaggers, and to keep your directions.

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So I thought I'd better ask, would there be any objection to my taking leave of anyone I know about here before I go away?

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No, said he, looking as if he hardly understood me.

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I don't mean in the village only, but uptown.

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No, said he.

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No objection.

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I thanked him and ran home again.

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And there I found that Joe had already locked the front door and vacated the state parlor, and was seated by the kitchen fire with a hand on each knee, gazing intently at the burning coals.

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I, too, sat down before the fire and gazed at the coals, and nothing was said for a long time.

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My sister was in her cushioned chair in her corner, and Biddy sat at her needlework before the fire, and Joe sat next to Bidy, and I sat next to Joe in the corner opposite my sister.

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The more I looked into the glowing coals, the more incapable I became of looking at Joe.

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The longer the silence lasted, the more unable I felt to speak.

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At length, I got out.

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Joe, have you told Biddy?

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No, Pip, returned Joe, still looking at the fire and holding his knees tight, as if he had private information that they intended to make off somewhere.

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Which I left it to yourself, Pip.

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I would rather you told Joe.

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Pip's a gentleman of fortune, then, said Joe, and God bless him.

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In it, Biddy dropped her work and looked at me.

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Joe held his knees and looked at me.

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I looked at both of them.

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After a pause, they both heartily congratulated me.

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But there was a certain touch of sadness in their congratulations that I rather resented.

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I took it upon myself to impress Biddy, and through Biddy Joe, with the grave obligation I considered my friends under, to know nothing and say nothing about the maker of my fortune.

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It would all come out in good time, I observed, and in the meantime nothing was to be said, save that I had come into great expectations from a mysterious patron.

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Biddy nodded her head thoughtfully at the fire as she took up her work again, and said she would be very particular, and Joe, still detaining his knees.

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Said, aye, I'll be ecker volley particular, Pip.

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And then they congratulated me again, and went on to express so much wonder at the notion of my being a gentleman that I didn't half like it.

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Infinite pains were then taken by Biddy to convey to my sister some idea of what had happened.

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To the best of my belief, those efforts entirely failed.

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She laughed and nodded her head a great many times, and even repeated after Biddy the words pip in property.

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But I doubt if they had more meaning in them than an election cry, and I cannot suggest a darker picture of her state of mind.

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I never could have believed it without experience.

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But as Joe and Biddy became more at their cheerful ease again, I became quite gloomy.

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Dissatisfied with my fortune, of course I could not be, but it is possible that I may have been, without quite knowing it, dissatisfied with myself.

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Anyhow.

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I sat with my elbow on my knee and my face upon my hand, looking into the fire as those two talked about my going away and about what they should do without me and all that, and whenever I caught one of them looking at me, though never so pleasantly, and they often looked at me particularly bitty, I felt offended, as if they were expressing some mistrust of me, though heaven knows they never did by word or sign.

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At those times I would get up and look out at the door, for our kitchen door opened at once upon the night, and stood open on summer evenings to air the room, the very stars to which I then raised my eyes.

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I am afraid I took to be but poor and humble stars, for glittering on the rustic objects among which I had passed my life.

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Saturday night, said I, when we sat at our supper of bread and cheese and beer.

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Five more days, and then the day before the day.

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They'll soon go.

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Yes, Pip, observed Joe, whose voice sounded hollow in his beer mug.

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They'll soon go, soon go, said Biddy.

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I've been thinking, Joe, that when I go downtown on Monday and order my new clothes.

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I shall tell the tailor that I'll come and put them on there, or that I'll have them sent to Mr.

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Pumblechuk's.

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It'd be very disagreeable to be stared at by all the people here.

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Mr.

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And Mrs.

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Hubble might like to see you in your new genteel figure.

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Too, Pip, said Joe, industriously cutting its bread with its cheese on it in the palm of his left hand, and glancing at my untasted supper as if he thought of the time when we used to compare slices.

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So might Mr.

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Wopsel, and the jolly bargeman might take it as a compliment.

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That's just what I don't want, Joe.

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They would make such a business of it, such a coarse and common business, that I couldn't bear myself.

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Ah, that indeed, Pip, said Joe.

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If you couldn't bear yourself.

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Biddy asked me here as she sat holding my sister's plate, have you thought about when you'll show yourself to Mr.

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Gargery and your sister and me?

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You will show yourself to us, won't you, Biddy?

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I returned with some resentment.

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You are so exceedingly quick that it's difficult to keep up with you.

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She always were quick, observed Joe.

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If you had waited another moment, Biddy, you would have heard me say that I shall bring my clothes here in a bundle one evening, most likely on the evening before I go away, Biddy said no more, handsomely forgiving her.

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I soon exchanged an affectionate good night with her and Joe and went up to bed.

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When I got into my little room, I sat down and took a long look at it as a mean little room that I should soon be parted from and raised above forever.

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It was furnished with fresh young remembrances too, and even at the same moment I fell into much the same confused division of mind between it and the bed rooms to which I was going, as I had been in so often between the forge and Miss Havisham's and Biddy and Estella.

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The sun had been shining brightly all day on the roof of my attic, and the room was warm.

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As I put the window open and stood looking out, I saw Joe come slowly forth at the dark door below, and take a turn or two in the air.

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And then I saw Biddy come and bring him a pipe and light it for him.

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He never smoked so late, and it seemed to hint to me that he wanted comforting for some reason or other.

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He presently stood at the door immediately beneath me, smoking his pipe, and Biddy stood there too, quietly talking to him, and I knew that they talked of me, for I heard my name mentioned in an endearing tone by both of them more than once.

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I would not have listened for more if I could have heard more.

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So I drew away from the window and sat down in my one chair by the bedside, feeling it very sorrowful and strange that this first night of my bright fortunes should be the loneliest I had ever known.

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Looking towards the open window, I saw light wreaths from Joe's pipe floating there, and I fancied it was like a blessing from Joe, not obtruded on me or paraded before me, but pervading the air we shared together.

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I put my light out and crept into bed, and it was an uneasy bed now, and I never slept the old sound sleep in it anymore.

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Thank you for joining Bite at a time books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

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Again, my name is Brie Carlyle and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of Great expectations.

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Don't forget to sign up for our newsletter@bytetimebooks.com, and check out the shop.

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You can check out the show notes or our website, bytetimebooks.com, for the rest of the links for our show.

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We'd love to hear from you on social media as well.

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You take a look in the book and let's see what we can find.

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Take it chapter by chapter, one at a time so many adventures and mountains we can climb.

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Take it word for word, line by line, one bite at a time, close.

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