casts, always inseparable in my mind from official proceedings, seemed to be congestively considering whether they didn't smell fire at the present moment.
My narrative finished, and their questions exhausted, I then produced Miss Havisham's authority to receive the nine hundred pounds for Herbert. Mr. Jaggers's eyes retired a little deeper into his head when I handed him the tablets, but he presently handed them over to Wemmick, with instructions to draw the cheque for his signature. While that was in course of being done, I looked on at Wemmick as he wrote, and Mr. Jaggers, poising and swaying himself on his well-polished boots, looked on at me. "I am sorry, Pip," said he, as I put the cheque in my pocket, when he had signed it, "that we do nothing for you."
"Miss Havisham was good enough to ask me," I returned, "whether she could do nothing for me, and I told her No."
"Everybody should know his own business," said Mr. Jaggers. And I saw Wemmick's lips form the word "portable property."
"I should not have told her No, if I had been you," said Mr. Jaggers; "but every man ought to know his own business best."
"Every man's business," said Wemmick, rather reproachfully towards me, "is 'portable property.'"
As I thought the time was now come for pursuing the theme I had at heart, I said, turning on Mr. Jaggers:
"I did ask something of Miss Havisham, however, sir. I asked her to give me some information relative to her adopted daughter, and she gave me all she possessed."
"Did she?" said Mr. Jaggers, bending forward to look at his boots and then straightening himself. "Hah! I don't think I should have done so, if I had been Miss Havisham. But she ought to know her own business best."
"I know more of the history of Miss Havisham's adopted child, than Miss Havisham herself does, sir. I know her mother."
