Chapter 32

           OnedaywhenIwasbusywithmybooksandMr.Pocket,Ireceivedanotebythepost,themereoutsideofwhichthrewmeintoagreatflutter;for,thoughIhadneverseenthehandwritinginwhichitwasaddressed,Idivinedwhosehanditwas.Ithadnosetbeginning,asDearMr.Pip,orDearPip,orDearSir,orDearAnything,butranthus:

           "IamtocometoLondonthedayafterto-morrowbythemiddaycoach.Ibelieveitwassettledyoushouldmeetme?AtalleventsMissHavishamhasthatimpression,andIwriteinobediencetoit.Shesendsyouherregard.

           Yours,ESTELLA."

           Iftherehadbeentime,Ishouldprobablyhaveorderedseveralsuitsofclothesforthisoccasion;butastherewasnot,IwasfaintobecontentwiththoseIhad.Myappetitevanishedinstantly,andIknewnopeaceorrestuntilthedayarrived.Notthatitsarrivalbroughtmeeither;for,thenIwasworsethanever,andbeganhauntingthecoach-officeinWoodStreet,Cheapside,beforethecoachhadlefttheBlueBoarinourtown.ForallthatIknewthisperfectlywell,Istillfeltasifitwerenotsafetoletthecoach-officebeoutofmysightlongerthanfiveminutesatatime;andinthisconditionofunreasonIhadperformedthefirsthalf-hourofawatchoffourorfivehours,whenWemmickranagainstme.

           "Halloa,Mr.Pip,"saidhe;"howdoyoudo?Ishouldhardlyhavethoughtthiswasyourbeat.

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