I thought it a strange thing then, and I thought it a stranger thing long afterwards.

I turned my eyes--a little dimmed by looking up at the frosty light--towards a great wooden beam in a low nook of the building near me on my right hand, and I saw a figure hanging there by the neck.

A figure all in yellow white, with but one shoe to the feet; and it hung so, that I could see that the faded trimmings of the dress were like earthy paper, and that the face was Miss Havisham's, with a movement going over the whole countenance as if she were trying to call to me.

In the terror of seeing the figure, and in the terror of being certain that it had not been there a moment before, I at first ran from it, and then ran towards it.

And my terror was greatest of all when I found no figure there.
Nothing less than the frosty light of the cheerful sky, the sight of people passing beyond the bars of the court-yard gate, and the reviving influence of the rest of the bread and meat and beer, would have brought me round.