ten o'clock at night before
She asked me and Joe whether we supposed she was door-mats under our feet , and how we dared to use her so , and what company we graciously thought she was fit for ? When she had exhausted a torrent of such inquiries , she threw a candlestick at Joe , burst into a loud sobbing , got out the dustpan , -- which was always a very bad sign , -- put on her coarse apron , and began cleaning up to a terrible extent . Not satisfied with a dry cleaning , she took to a pail and scrubbing-brush , and cleaned us out of house and home , so that we stood shivering in the back-yard . It was ten o'clock at night before we ventured to creep in again , and then she asked Joe why he had n't married a Negress Slave at once ? Joe offered no answer , poor fellow , but stood feeling his whisker and looking dejectedly at me , as if he thought it really might have been a better speculation . It was a trial to my feelings , on the next day but one , to see Joe arraying himself in his Sunday clothes to accompany me to Miss Havisham 's . However , as he thought his court-suit necessary to the occasion , it was not for me to tell him that he looked far better in his working-dress ; the rather , because I knew he made himself so dreadfully uncomfortable , entirely on my account , and that it was for me he pulled up his shirt-collar so very high behind , that it made the hair on the crown of his head stand up like a tuft of feathers .