“O, look at her, look at her!” cried Miss Havisham, bitterly; “Look at her so hard and thankless, on the hearth where she was reared! Where I took her into this wretched breast when it was first bleeding from its stabs, and where I have lavished years of tenderness upon her!”
He knew that way she had of withdrawing into herself, and knew that it only happened when she had determined upon something without letting him know her plans.