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Chapter 18

           

           AtthosetimesIwouldgetupandlookoutatthedoor;forourkitchendooropenedatonceuponthenight,andstoodopenonsummereveningstoairtheroom.TheverystarstowhichIthenraisedmyeyes,IamafraidItooktobebutpoorandhumblestarsforglitteringontherusticobjectsamongwhichIhadpassedmylife.

           "Saturdaynight,"saidI,whenwesatatoursupperofbreadandcheeseandbeer."Fivemoredays,andthenthedaybeforetheday!They’llsoongo."

           "Yes,Pip,"observedJoe,whosevoicesoundedhollowinhisbeer–mug."They’llsoongo."

           "Soon,soongo,"saidBiddy.

           "Ihavebeenthinking,Joe,thatwhenIgodowntownonMonday,andordermynewclothes,IshalltellthetailorthatI’llcomeandputthemonthere,orthatI’llhavethemsenttoMr.Pumblechook’s.Itwouldbeverydisagreeabletobestaredatbyallthepeoplehere."

           "Mr.andMrs.Hubblemightliketoseeyouinyournewgen-teelfiguretoo,Pip,"saidJoe,industriouslycuttinghisbread,withhischeeseonit,inthepalmofhislefthand,andglancingatmyuntastedsupperasifhethoughtofthetimewhenweusedtocompareslices."SomightWopsle.AndtheJollyBargemenmighttakeitasacompliment."

           "That’sjustwhatIdon’twant,Joe.TheywouldmakesuchabusinessofitsuchacoarseandcommonbusinessthatIcouldn’tbearmyself."

           "Ah,thatindeed,Pip!"saidJoe.

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