"Halloa, Mr. Pip!" said Wemmick. "You did come home, then?"
"Yes," I returned; "but I didn't go home."
"That's all right," said he, rubbing his hands. "I left a note for you
at each of the Temple gates, on the chance. Which gate did you come to?"
I told him.
"I'll go round to the others in the course of the day and destroy the
notes," said Wemmick; "it's a good rule never to leave documentary
evidence if you can help it, because you don't know when it may be put
in. I'm going to take a liberty with you. Would you mind toasting this
sausage for the Aged P.?"
I said I should be delighted to do it.
"Then you can go about your work, Mary Anne," said Wemmick to the little
servant; "which leaves us to ourselves, don't you see, Mr. Pip?" he
added, winking, as she disappeared.
I thanked him for his friendship and caution, and our discourse
proceeded in a low tone, while I toasted the Aged's sausage and he
buttered the crumb of the Aged's roll.
"Now, Mr. Pip, you know," said Wemmick, "you and I understand one
another. We are in our private and personal capacities, and we have been
engaged in a confidential transaction before to-day. Official sentiments
are one thing. We are extra official."
I cordially assented. I was so very nervous, that I had already lighted
the Aged's sausage like a torch, and been obliged to blow it out.
"I accidentally heard, yesterday morning," said Wemmick, "being in a
certain place where I once took you,--even between you and me, it's as
well not to mention names when avoidable--"
"Much better not," said I. "I understand you."
"I heard there by chance, yesterday morning," said Wemmick, "that
a certain person not altogether of uncolonial pursuits, and not
unpossessed of portable property,--I don't know who it may really
be,--we won't name this person--"
"Not necessary," said I.
"--Had made some little stir in a certain part of the world where a good
many people go, not always in gratification of their own inclinations,
and not quite irrespective of the government expense--"
In watching his face, I made quite a firework of the Aged's sausage,
and greatly discomposed both my own attention and Wemmick's; for which I
apologized.
"--By disappearing from such place, and being no more heard of
thereabouts. From which," said Wemmick, "conjectures had been raised and
theories formed. I also heard that you at your chambers in Garden Court,
Temple, had been watched, and might be watched again."