“I follow you, sir.”

“Put the case that he lived in an atmosphere of evil, and that all he saw of children, was, their being generated in great numbers for certain destruction.  Put the case that he often saw children solemnly tried at a criminal bar, where they were held up to be seen; put the case that he habitually knew of their being imprisoned, whipped, transported, neglected, cast out, qualified in all ways for the hangman, and growing up to be hanged.  Put the case that pretty nigh all the children he saw in his daily business life, he had reason to look upon as so much spawn, to develop into the fish that were to come to his net — to be prosecuted, defended, forsworn, made orphans, bedevilled somehow.”

“I follow you, sir.”

“Put the case, Pip, that here was one pretty little child out of the heap, who could be saved; whom the father believed dead, and dared make no stir about; as to whom, over the mother, the legal adviser had this power:  “I know what you did, and how you did it.  You came so and so, this was your manner of attack and this the manner of resistance, you went so and so, you did such and such things to divert suspicion.  I have tracked you through it all, and I tell it you all.  Part with the child, unless it should be necessary to produce it to clear you, and then it shall be produced.  Give the child into my hands, and I will do my best to bring you off.  If you are saved, your child is saved too; if you are lost, your child is still saved.”  Put the case that this was done, and that the woman was cleared.”

“I understand you perfectly.”

“But that I make no admissions?”

“That you make no admissions.”  And Wemmick repeated, “No admissions.”

“Put the case, Pip, that passion and the terror of death had a little shaken the woman’s intellect, and that when she was set at liberty, she was scared out of the ways of the world and went to him to be sheltered.  Put the case that he took her in, and that he kept down the old wild violent nature whenever he saw an inkling of its breaking out, by asserting his power over her in the old way.  Do you comprehend the imaginary case?”

“Quite.”

“Put the case that the child grew up, and was married for money.  That the mother was still living.  That the father was still living.  That the mother and father unknown to one another, were dwelling within so many miles, furlongs, yards if you like, of one another.  That the secret was still a secret, except that you had got wind of it.  Put that last case to yourself very carefully.”

“I do.”

“I ask Wemmick to put it to himself very carefully.”

And Wemmick said, “I do.”