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- Чарльз Диккенс
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When
I
reached
home
,
my
sister
was
very
curious
to
know
all
about
Miss
Havisham
’
s
,
and
asked
a
number
of
questions
.
And
I
soon
found
myself
getting
heavily
bumped
from
behind
in
the
nape
of
the
neck
and
the
small
of
the
back
,
and
having
my
face
ignominiously
shoved
against
the
kitchen
wall
,
because
I
did
not
answer
those
questions
at
sufficient
length
.
If
a
dread
of
not
being
understood
be
hidden
in
the
breasts
of
other
young
people
to
anything
like
the
extent
to
which
it
used
to
be
hidden
in
mine
—
which
I
consider
probable
,
as
I
have
no
particular
reason
to
suspect
myself
of
having
been
a
monstrosity
—
it
is
the
key
to
many
reservations
.
I
felt
convinced
that
if
I
described
Miss
Havisham
’
s
as
my
eyes
had
seen
it
,
I
should
not
be
understood
.
Not
only
that
,
but
I
felt
convinced
that
Miss
Havisham
too
would
not
be
understood
;
and
although
she
was
perfectly
incomprehensible
to
me
,
I
entertained
an
impression
that
there
would
be
something
coarse
and
treacherous
in
my
dragging
her
as
she
really
was
(
to
say
nothing
of
Miss
Estella
)
before
the
contemplation
of
Mrs
.
Joe
.
Consequently
,
I
said
as
little
as
I
could
,
and
had
my
face
shoved
against
the
kitchen
wall
.
The
worst
of
it
was
that
that
bullying
old
Pumblechook
,
preyed
upon
by
a
devouring
curiosity
to
be
informed
of
all
I
had
seen
and
heard
,
came
gaping
over
in
his
chaise
-
cart
at
tea
-
time
,
to
have
the
details
divulged
to
him
.
And
the
mere
sight
of
the
torment
,
with
his
fishy
eyes
and
mouth
open
,
his
sandy
hair
inquisitively
on
end
,
and
his
waistcoat
heaving
with
windy
arithmetic
,
made
me
vicious
in
my
reticence
.
"
Well
,
boy
,
"
Uncle
Pumblechook
began
,
as
soon
as
he
was
seated
in
the
chair
of
honor
by
the
fire
.
"
How
did
you
get
on
up
town
?
"
I
answered
,
"
Pretty
well
,
sir
,
"
and
my
sister
shook
her
fist
at
me
.
"
Pretty
well
?
"
Mr
.
Pumblechook
repeated
.
"
Pretty
well
is
no
answer
.
Tell
us
what
you
mean
by
pretty
well
,
boy
?
"
Whitewash
on
the
forehead
hardens
the
brain
into
a
state
of
obstinacy
perhaps
.
Anyhow
,
with
whitewash
from
the
wall
on
my
forehead
,
my
obstinacy
was
adamantine
.
I
reflected
for
some
time
,
and
then
answered
as
if
I
had
discovered
a
new
idea
,
"
I
mean
pretty
well
.
"
My
sister
with
an
exclamation
of
impatience
was
going
to
fly
at
me
,
—
I
had
no
shadow
of
defence
,
for
Joe
was
busy
in
the
forge
—
when
Mr
.
Pumblechook
interposed
with
"
No
!
Don
’
t
lose
your
temper
.
Leave
this
lad
to
me
,
ma
’
am
;
leave
this
lad
to
me
.
"
Mr
.
Pumblechook
then
turned
me
towards
him
,
as
if
he
were
going
to
cut
my
hair
,
and
said
—
"
First
(
to
get
our
thoughts
in
order
)
:
Forty
-
three
pence
?
"
