fancies,” she went on, “and I have a sick fancy that I want to see some play.
There, there!” with an impatient movement of the fingers of her right hand; “play, play, play!”
For a moment, with the fear of my sister's working me before my eyes, I had a desperate idea of starting round the room in the assumed character of Mr. Pumblechook's chaise-cart. But I felt myself so unequal to the performance that I gave it up, and stood looking at Miss Havisham in what I suppose she took for a dogged manner, inasmuch as she said, when we had taken a good look at each other, —
“Are you sullen and obstinate?”
“No, ma'am, I am very sorry for you,