“Unless you call Miss Havisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as that.”
“Miss Havisham, up town?” said Joe.
“Is there any Miss Havisham down town?” returned my sister.
“She wants this boy to go and play there. And of course he's going. And he had better play there,” said my sister, shaking her head at me as an encouragement to be extremely light and sportive, “or I'll work him.”
I had heard of Miss Havisham up town, — everybody for miles round had heard of Miss Havisham up town, — as an immensely rich and grim lady who lived in a large and dismal house barricaded against robbers, and who led a life of seclusion.