I said, or tried to say, that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation—
“No, my young friend!” he interrupted, shaking his great head very slowly. “Recollect yourself!”
Not recollecting myself, I began again that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation—
“No, my young friend,” he interrupted, shaking his head and frowning and smiling both at once—“no, no, no; it’s very well done, but it won’t do; you are too young to fix me with it. Recommendation is not the word, Mr. Pip. Try another.”
Correcting myself, I said that I was much obliged to him for his mention of Mr. Matthew Pocket—
“ That ’s more like it!” cried Mr. Jaggers.—And (I added), I would gladly try that gentleman.
“Good. You had better try him in his own house. The way shall be prepared for you, and you can see his son first, who is in London. When will you come to London?”
I said (glancing at Joe, who stood looking on, motionless), that I supposed I could come directly.
“First,” said Mr. Jaggers, “you should have some new clothes to come in, and they should not be working-clothes. Say this day week. You’ll want some money. Shall I leave you twenty guineas?”
He produced a long purse, with the greatest coolness, and counted them out on the table and pushed them over to me. This was the first time he had taken his leg from the chair. He sat astride of the chair when he had pushed the money over, and sat swinging his purse and eyeing Joe.