1 I was going to wish her many happy returns, when she lifted her stick.
2 At the mention of each name, she had struck the table with her stick in a new place.
3 She put her left arm across the head of her stick, and softly laid her forehead on it.
4 This," said she, pointing to the long table with her stick, "is where I will be laid when I am dead.
5 Miss Havisham was taking exercise in the room with the long spread table, leaning on her crutch stick.
6 In her other hand she had a crutch-headed stick on which she leaned, and she looked like the Witch of the place.
7 So I came into Smithfield; and the shameful place, being all asmear with filth and fat and blood and foam, seemed to stick to me.
8 What he did on those occasions was to turn up his cuffs, stick up his hair, and give us Mark Antony's oration over the body of Caesar.
9 They seemed to think the opportunity lost, if they failed to point the conversation at me, every now and then, and stick the point into me.
10 When I saw her again, an hour afterwards, she lay, indeed, where I had seen her strike her stick, and had heard her say that she would lie one day.
11 She was in her chair near the old table, in the old dress, with her two hands crossed on her stick, her chin resting on them, and her eyes on the fire.
12 "This is a gay figure, Pip," said she, making her crutch stick play round me, as if she, the fairy godmother who had changed me, were bestowing the finishing gift.
13 She set her hand upon her stick in the resolute way that sometimes was habitual to her, and looked at the fire with a strong expression of forcing herself to attend.
14 On this day of the year, long before you were born, this heap of decay," stabbing with her crutched stick at the pile of cobwebs on the table, but not touching it, "was brought here.
15 I thought it would be very good for me if I could get her out of my head, with all the rest of those remembrances and fancies, and could go to work determined to relish what I had to do, and stick to it, and make the best of it.
16 She held the head of her stick against her heart as she stood looking at the table; she in her once white dress, all yellow and withered; the once white cloth all yellow and withered; everything around in a state to crumble under a touch.
17 She looked at Sarah Pocket with triumph in her weird eyes, and so I left my fairy godmother, with both her hands on her crutch stick, standing in the midst of the dimly lighted room beside the rotten bride-cake that was hidden in cobwebs.
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