“Why should I look at him?” returned Estella, with her eyes on me instead. “What is there in that fellow in the corner yonder, — to use your words, — that I need look at?”

“Indeed, that is the very question I want to ask you,” said I.

“For he has been hovering about you all night.”

“Moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures,” replied Estella, with a glance towards him, “hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle help it?”

“No,” I returned; “but cannot the Estella help it?”

“Well!” said she, laughing, after a moment, “perhaps. Yes. Anything you like.”