“Do you know her?” Mr. Havisham asked, glancing from one to the other.
“Yes,” said Ben. “I know her and she knows me. [I can swear to her] in any court, and I can bring a dozen others who will. Her father is a respectable sort of man, and he’s honest enough to be ashamed of her. He’ll tell you who she is, and whether she married me or not.”
Then he clenched his hand suddenly and turned on her.
“Where’s the child?” he demanded. “He’s going with me! [He is done with you,] and so am I!”
And just as he finished saying the words, the door leading into the bedroom opened a little, and the boy, probably attracted by the sound of the loud voices, looked in. He was not a handsome boy, but he had rather a nice face, and he was quite like Ben, his father, as any one could see, and there was the three-cornered scar on his chin.
Ben walked up to him and took his hand, and his own was trembling.
“Tom,” he said to the little fellow. “I’m your father; I’ve come to take you away. Where’s your hat?”
The boy pointed to where it lay on a chair. It evidently rather pleased him to hear that he was going away. Ben took up the hat and marched to the door.
“If you want me again,” he said to Mr. Havisham, “you know where to find me.”
He walked out of the room, holding the child’s hand and not looking at the woman once. She was [fairly] raving with fury, and the Earl was calmly gazing at her through his eyeglasses, which he had quietly placed upon his aristocratic eagle nose.