He complied, and we groped our way down the dark stairs together. While we were still on our way to those detached apartments across the paved yard at the back, he asked me how often I had seen Miss Havisham eat and drink; offering me a breadth of choice, as usual, between a hundred times and once.

     I considered, and said, "Never."

     "And never will, Pip," he retorted, with a frowning smile. "She has never allowed herself to be seen doing either, since she lived this present life of hers. She wanders about in the night, and then lays hands on such food as she takes."

     "Pray, sir," said I, "may I ask you a question?"

     "You may," said he, "and I may decline to answer it. Put your question."

     "Estella's name. Is it Havisham or--?" I had nothing to add.

     "Or what?" said he.

     "Is it Havisham?"

     "It is Havisham."