it, and we took another look at each other.
Before she spoke again, she turned her eyes from me, and looked at the dress she wore, and at the dressing-table, and finally at herself in the looking-glass.
"So new to him," she muttered, "so old to me; so strange to him, so familiar to me; so melancholy to both of us! Call Estella."
As she was still looking at the reflexion of herself, I thought she was still talking to herself, and kept quiet.
"Call Estella," she repeated, flashing a look at me. "You can do that. Call Estella. At the door,"
To stand in the dark in a mysterious passage of an unknown house, bawling Estella to a scornful young lady neither visible nor responsive, and feeling it a dreadful liberty so to roar out her name, was almost as bad as playing to order. But, she answered at last, and her light came along the long dark passage like a star.
Miss Havisham beckoned her to come close, and took up a jewel from the table,
