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- Чарльз Диккенс
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In
a
by
-
yard
,
there
was
a
wilderness
of
empty
casks
,
which
had
a
certain
sour
remembrance
of
better
days
lingering
about
them
;
but
it
was
too
sour
to
be
accepted
as
a
sample
of
the
beer
that
was
gone
—
and
in
this
respect
I
remember
those
recluses
as
being
like
most
others
.
Behind
the
furthest
end
of
the
brewery
,
was
a
rank
garden
with
an
old
wall
;
not
so
high
but
that
I
could
struggle
up
and
hold
on
long
enough
to
look
over
it
,
and
see
that
the
rank
garden
was
the
garden
of
the
house
,
and
that
it
was
overgrown
with
tangled
weeds
,
but
that
there
was
a
track
upon
the
green
and
yellow
paths
,
as
if
some
one
sometimes
walked
there
,
and
that
Estella
was
walking
away
from
me
even
then
.
But
she
seemed
to
be
everywhere
.
For
when
I
yielded
to
the
temptation
presented
by
the
casks
,
and
began
to
walk
on
them
,
I
saw
her
walking
on
them
at
the
end
of
the
yard
of
casks
.
She
had
her
back
towards
me
,
and
held
her
pretty
brown
hair
spread
out
in
her
two
hands
,
and
never
looked
round
,
and
passed
out
of
my
view
directly
.
So
,
in
the
brewery
itself
—
by
which
I
mean
the
large
paved
lofty
place
in
which
they
used
to
make
the
beer
,
and
where
the
brewing
utensils
still
were
.
When
I
first
went
into
it
,
and
,
rather
oppressed
by
its
gloom
,
stood
near
the
door
looking
about
me
,
I
saw
her
pass
among
the
extinguished
fires
,
and
ascend
some
light
iron
stairs
,
and
go
out
by
a
gallery
high
overhead
,
as
if
she
were
going
out
into
the
sky
.
It
was
in
this
place
,
and
at
this
moment
,
that
a
strange
thing
happened
to
my
fancy
.
I
thought
it
a
strange
thing
then
,
and
I
thought
it
a
stranger
thing
long
afterwards
.
I
turned
my
eyes
—
a
little
dimmed
by
looking
up
at
the
frosty
light
—
towards
a
great
wooden
beam
in
a
low
nook
of
the
building
near
me
on
my
right
hand
,
and
I
saw
a
figure
hanging
there
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
the
faded
trimmings
of
the
dress
were
like
earthy
paper
,
and
that
the
face
was
Miss
Havisham
’
s
,
with
a
movement
going
over
the
whole
countenance
as
if
she
were
trying
to
call
to
me
.
In
the
terror
of
seeing
the
figure
,
and
in
the
terror
of
being
certain
that
it
had
not
been
there
a
moment
before
,
I
at
first
ran
from
it
,
and
then
ran
towards
it
.
And
my
terror
was
greatest
of
all
when
I
found
no
figure
there
.
Nothing
less
than
the
frosty
light
of
the
cheerful
sky
,
the
sight
of
people
passing
beyond
the
bars
of
the
court
-
yard
gate
,
and
the
reviving
influence
of
the
rest
of
the
bread
and
meat
and
beer
,
would
have
brought
me
round
.
Even
with
those
aids
,
I
might
not
have
come
to
myself
as
soon
as
I
did
,
but
that
I
saw
Estella
approaching
with
the
keys
,
to
let
me
out
.
She
would
have
some
fair
reason
for
looking
down
upon
me
,
I
thought
,
if
she
saw
me
frightened
;
and
she
would
have
no
fair
reason
.
She
gave
me
a
triumphant
glance
in
passing
me
,
as
if
she
rejoiced
that
my
hands
were
so
coarse
and
my
boots
were
so
thick
,
and
she
opened
the
gate
,
and
stood
holding
it
.
I
was
passing
out
without
looking
at
her
,
when
she
touched
me
with
a
taunting
hand
"
Why
don
’
t
you
cry
?
"
"
Because
I
don
’
t
want
to
.
"
"
You
do
,
"
said
she
.
"
You
have
been
crying
till
you
are
half
blind
,
and
you
are
near
crying
again
now
.
"
She
laughed
contemptuously
,
pushed
me
out
,
and
locked
the
gate
upon
me
.
I
went
straight
to
Mr
.
Pumblechook
’
s
,
and
was
immensely
relieved
to
find
him
not
at
home
.
So
,
leaving
word
with
the
shopman
on
what
day
I
was
wanted
at
Miss
Havisham
’
s
again
,
I
set
off
on
the
four
-
mile
walk
to
our
forge
;
pondering
,
as
I
went
along
,
on
all
I
had
seen
,
and
deeply
revolving
that
I
was
a
common
laboring
-
boy
;
that
my
hands
were
coarse
;
that
my
boots
were
thick
;
that
I
had
fallen
into
a
despicable
habit
of
calling
knaves
Jacks
;
that
I
was
much
more
ignorant
than
I
had
considered
myself
last
night
,
and
generally
that
I
was
in
a
low
-
lived
bad
way
.
