It would have been nice if he could have seen Ash at least once during the day to set his mind at rest on a couple of scores. But no matter how many times he searched for Ash through the windows of the cottage, the man never appeared. And by dusk, Pip was fretting like a mother hen over one chick. Perhaps he had truly hurt him and Ash was just too stubborn to admit it. Or did he simply not want to see Pip? Pip’s pride shied away from that possibility. Ash had called him beautiful more than once. He’d wanted Pip. He’d said he’d enjoyed their encounter. He had to want more, as Pip did. At supper that night, Pip desperately wanted to ask Mrs. Applethwaite about their master, but he didn’t dare. Not only was she sure to tell him it was none of his concern, but he didn’t want to raise any suspicions about their relationship. So instead, Pip sat and stared broodingly into the fire as the minutes ticked past. He’d worked himself up to a full sulk by the time the clock in the main hall chimed eight, but then Ash’s bell rang twice, only a few seconds after, and Pip was on his feet before the second ring had finished.
What do You think about Never A Road Without A Turning?
