about you (anonymous sometimes), and you are the torment and the occupation of their lives. You can scarcely realize to yourself the hatred those people feel for you.”

“They do me no harm, I hope?”

Instead of answering, Estella burst out laughing. This was very singular to me, and I looked at her in considerable perplexity. When she left off — and she had not laughed languidly, but with real enjoyment — I said, in my diffident way with her, —

“I hope I may suppose that you would not be amused if they did me any harm.”

“No, no you may be sure of that,” said Estella.

“You may be certain that I laugh because they fail. O, those people with Miss Havisham, and the tortures they undergo!”