Большие надежды. Уровень 2 / Great Expectations

”

She called me “boy” very often, but she was of about my own age. Anyway, she seemed much older than I, of course.

We went into the house by a side door. The great front entrance had two chains across it outside. The passages were all dark. At last we came to the door of a room, and the girl said, “Go in.”

I answered, more in shyness than politeness, “After you, miss.”

To this she returned:

“Don’t be ridiculous, boy; I am not going in.”

She scornfully walked away, and took the candle with her.

This was very uncomfortable, and I was afraid. However, I knocked and entered. I found myself[19 - I found myself – я очутился] in a large room. It was well lighted with wax candles. No glimpse of daylight. It was a dressing-room, but in it was a draped table with a gilded looking-glass.

In an arm-chair, sat a very strange lady. She was dressed in rich materials – satins, and lace, and silks – all of white. Her shoes were white. And she had a long white veil dependent from her hair.

She had bridal flowers in her hair, but her hair was white. Some bright jewels sparkled on her neck and on her hands, and some other jewels lay on the table.

“Who is it?” said the lady.

“Pip, ma’am.”

“Come nearer; let me look at you. Come close.”

A clock in the room stopped at twenty minutes to nine.

“Look at me,” said Miss Havisham. “You are not afraid of me?”

“No.”

“Do you know what I touch here?” she laid her hands, one upon the other, on her left side.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What do I touch?”

“Your heart.”

“Broken!”

She uttered the word with strong emphasis, and with a weird smile.

“I am tired,” said Miss Havisham. “I want diversion. Play. I sometimes have sick fancies. There, there!” with an impatient movement of the fingers of her right hand; “play, play, play!”

I was looking at Miss Havisham.

“Are you sullen and obstinate?”

“No, ma’am, I am very sorry for you, and very sorry I can’t play just now.

It’s so new here, and so strange, and so fine and melancholy…”

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.