Большие ожидания

Chapter 8

           Ithoughtitastrangethingthen,andIthoughtitastrangerthinglongafterwards.Iturnedmyeyesalittledimmedbylookingupatthefrostylighttowardsagreatwoodenbeaminalownookofthebuildingnearmeonmyrighthand,andIsawafigurehangingtherebytheneck.Afigureallinyellowwhite,withbutoneshoetothefeet;andithungso,thatIcouldseethatthefadedtrimmingsofthedresswerelikeearthypaper,andthatthefacewasMissHavisham’s,withamovementgoingoverthewholecountenanceasifsheweretryingtocalltome.Intheterrorofseeingthefigure,andintheterrorofbeingcertainthatithadnotbeenthereamomentbefore,Iatfirstranfromit,andthenrantowardsit.AndmyterrorwasgreatestofallwhenIfoundnofigurethere.

           Nothinglessthanthefrostylightofthecheerfulsky,thesightofpeoplepassingbeyondthebarsofthecourt-yardgate,andtherevivinginfluenceoftherestofthebreadandmeatandbeer,wouldhavebroughtmeround.Evenwiththoseaids,ImightnothavecometomyselfassoonasIdid,butthatIsawEstellaapproachingwiththekeys,toletmeout.Shewouldhavesomefairreasonforlookingdownuponme,Ithought,ifshesawmefrightened;andshewouldhavenofairreason.

           Shegavemeatriumphantglanceinpassingme,asifsherejoicedthatmyhandsweresocoarseandmybootsweresothick,andsheopenedthegate,andstoodholdingit.Iwaspassingoutwithoutlookingather,whenshetouchedmewithatauntinghand

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