"Well, Pip," said he, "I must call you Mr. Pip to-day.
Congratulations, Mr. Pip."
We shook hands - he was always a remarkably short shaker - and I
thanked him.
"Take a chair, Mr. Pip," said my guardian.
As I sat down, and he preserved his attitude and bent his brows at
his boots, I felt at a disadvantage, which reminded me of that old
time when I had been put upon a tombstone. The two ghastly casts on
the shelf were not far from him, and their expression was as if
they were making a stupid apoplectic attempt to attend to the
conversation.
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