When I said some reassuring words, she stretched out her tremulous right hand, as though she was going to touch me; but she recalled it again before I understood the action, or knew how to receive it.

“You said, speaking for your friend, that you could tell me how to do something useful and good.  Something that you would like done, is it not?”

“Something that I would like done very much.”

“What is it?”

I began explaining to her that secret history of the partnership.  I had not got far into it, when I judged from her looks that she was thinking in a discursive way of me, rather than of what I said.  It seemed to be so, for, when I stopped speaking, many moments passed before she showed that she was conscious of the fact.

“Do you break off,” she asked then, with her former air of being afraid of me, “because you hate me too much to bear to speak to me?”

“No, no,” I answered, “how can you think so, Miss Havisham!  I stopped because I thought you were not following what I said.”

“Perhaps I was not,” she answered, putting a hand to her head.  “Begin again, and let me look at something else.  Stay!  Now tell me.”

She set her hand upon her stick, in the resolute way that sometimes was habitual to her, and looked at the fire with a strong expression of forcing herself to attend.  I went on with my explanation, and told her how I had hoped to complete the transaction out of my means, but how in this I was disappointed.  That part of the subject (I reminded her) involved matters which could form no part of my explanation, for they were the weighty secrets of another.

“So!” said she, assenting with her head, but not looking at me.  “And how much money is wanting to complete the purchase?”

I was rather afraid of stating it, for it sounded a large sum.  “Nine hundred pounds.”

“If I give you the money for this purpose, will you keep my secret as you have kept your own?”

“Quite as faithfully.”

“And your mind will be more at rest?”

“Much more at rest.”

“Are you very unhappy now?”

She asked this question, still without looking at me, but in an unwonted tone of sympathy.  I could not reply at the moment, for my voice failed me.  She put her left arm across the head of her stick, and softly laid her forehead on it.

“I am far from happy, Miss Havisham; but I have other causes of disquiet than any you know of.  They are the secrets I have mentioned.”

After a little while, she raised her head and looked at the fire again.

“It is noble in you to tell me that you have other causes of unhappiness, Is it true?”

“Too true.”

“Can I only serve you, Pip, by serving your friend?  Regarding that as done, is there nothing I can do for you yourself?”

“Nothing.  I thank you for the question.  I thank you even more for the tone of the question.  But, there is nothing.”