Большие надежды. Уровень 2 / Great Expectations

She came back, with some bread and meat and a little mug of beer. She put the mug down on the stones of the yard, and gave me the bread and meat. She did not look at me. I was so humiliated, hurt, spurned, offended, angry. Tears started to my eyes. The girl looked at me with a quick delight, then she left me.

I looked about me for a place to hide my face in and cried. As I cried, I kicked the wall.

Then I noticed Estella. She laughed contemptuously, pushed me out, and locked the gate upon me. I went straight to Mr.

Pumblechook’s. Then I walked to our forge. I remembered that I was a common laboring-boy; that my hands were coarse; that my boots were thick.

Chapter 8

When I reached home, my sister was very curious to know all about Miss Havisham’s. She asked many questions. Then old Pumblechook came over at tea-time.

“Well, boy,” Uncle Pumblechook began, as soon as he was seated in the chair of honor[23 - the chair of honor – почётное место] by the fire. “How did you get on up town?[24 - How did you get on up town?” – Как ты провел время в городе?]”

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?”

“I mean pretty well,” I answered.

My sister was ready to hit me. I had no defence, for Joe was busy in the forge. Mr. Pumblechook interposed,

“No! Don’t lose your temper.

Leave this lad to me, ma’am; leave this lad to me.”

Then Mr. Pumblechook turned me towards him and said,

“Boy! Tell me about Miss Havisham.”

“She is very tall and dark,” I told him.

“Good!” said Mr. Pumblechook conceitedly. “Now, boy! What was she doing, when you went in today?”

“She was sitting,” I answered, “in a black velvet coach.”

Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another and both repeated,

“In a black velvet coach?”

“Yes,” said I.

“And Miss Estella – that’s her niece, I think – brought her some cake and wine.”

“Was anybody else there?” asked Mr. Pumblechook.

“Four dogs,” said I.

“Large or small?”

“Immense,” said I.

Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another again, in utter amazement.

“Can this be possible, uncle?” asked Mrs. Joe. “What can the boy mean?”

“I’ll tell you, Mum,” said Mr. Pumblechook.