Reg.: Nov 2012
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http://www.coachoutletstoresonline-eshop.com rtp

Mr. Pumblechook and I breakfasted at eight o'clock in the parlor

behind the shop, while the shopman took his mug of tea and hunch of

bread and butter on a sack of peas in the front premises. I

considered Mr. Pumblechook wretched company. Besides being possessed

by my sister's idea that a mortifying and penitential character

ought to be imparted to my diet,--besides giving me as much crumb

as possible in combination with as little butter, and putting such

a quantity of warm water into my milk that it would have been more

candid to have left the milk out altogether,--his conversation

consisted of nothing but arithmetic. On my politely bidding him

Good morning, he said, pompously, "Seven times nine, boy?" And how

should I be able to answer, dodged in that way, in a strange place,

on an empty stomach! I was hungry, but before I had swallowed a

morsel, he began a running sum that lasted all through the

breakfast. "Seven?" "And four?" "And eight?" "And six?" "And two?"

"And ten?" And so on. And after each figure was disposed of, it was

as much as I could do to get a bite or a sup, before the next came;

while he sat at his ease guessing nothing, and eating bacon and hot

roll, in (if I may be allowed the expression) a gorging and

gormandizing manner.

For such reasons, I was very glad when ten o'clock came and we

started for Miss Havisham's; though I was not at all at my ease

regarding the manner in which I should acquit myself under that

lady's roof. Within a quarter of an hour we came to Miss Havisham's

house, which was of old brick, and dismal, and had a great many

iron bars to it. Some of the windows had been walled up; of those

that remained, all the lower were rustily barred.

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