"He may have been married already, and her cruel mortification may
have been a part of her half-brother's scheme," said Herbert. "Mind!
I don't know that."
"What became of the two men?" I asked, after again considering the
subject.
"They fell into deeper shame and degradation--if there can be
deeper--and ruin."
"Are they alive now?"
"I don't know."
"You said just now that Estella was not related to Miss Havisham,
but adopted. When adopted?"
Herbert shrugged his shoulders. "There has always been an Estella,
since I have heard of a Miss Havisham. I know no more. And now,
Handel," said he, finally throwing off the story as it were, "there
is a perfectly open understanding between us. All that I know about
Miss Havisham, you know."
"And all that I know," I retorted, "you know."
"I fully believe it. So there can be no competition or perplexity
between you and me. And as to the condition on which you hold your
advancement in life,--namely, that you are not to inquire or
discuss to whom you owe it,--you may be very sure that it will
never be encroached upon, or even approached, by me, or by any one
belonging to me."
In truth, he said this with so much delicacy, that I felt the
subject done with, even though I should be under his father's roof
for years and years to come.
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