“Estella,” said I, “do look at that fellow in the corner yonder, who is looking over here at us.”
“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