1 Once more, the mists were rising as I walked away.
2 Beyond town, we found a heavy mist out, and it fell wet and thick.
3 Either the mist was not out again yet, or the wind had dispelled it.
4 And the mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me.
5 We were taking the course I had begun with, and from which I had diverged in the mist.
6 The last I heard of him, I stopped in the mist to listen, and the file was still going.
7 A cold silvery mist had veiled the afternoon, and the moon was not yet up to scatter it.
8 I indicated in what direction the mist had shrouded the other man, and he looked up at it for an instant.
9 The mist was heavier yet when I got out upon the marshes, so that instead of my running at everything, everything seemed to run at me.
10 But whether Joe knew how poor I was, and how my great expectations had all dissolved, like our own marsh mists before the sun, I could not understand.
11 We were noticing this, and saying how that the mist rose with a change of wind from a certain quarter of our marshes, when we came upon a man, slouching under the lee of the turnpike house.
12 In effect, we had not walked many yards further, when the well-remembered boom came towards us, deadened by the mist, and heavily rolled away along the low grounds by the river, as if it were pursuing and threatening the fugitives.
13 But the village was very peaceful and quiet, and the light mists were solemnly rising, as if to show me the world, and I had been so innocent and little there, and all beyond was so unknown and great, that in a moment with a strong heave and sob I broke into tears.
14 I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no shadow of another parting from her.
15 Having thus cleared the way for my expedition to Miss Havisham's, I set off by the early morning coach before it was yet light, and was out on the open country road when the day came creeping on, halting and whimpering and shivering, and wrapped in patches of cloud and rags of mist, like a beggar.
16 I turned my head aside, for, with a rush and a sweep, like the old marsh winds coming up from the sea, a feeling like that which had subdued me on the morning when I left the forge, when the mists were solemnly rising, and when I laid my hand upon the village finger-post, smote upon my heart again.
17 I remember that at a later period of my "time," I used to stand about the churchyard on Sunday evenings when night was falling, comparing my own perspective with the windy marsh view, and making out some likeness between them by thinking how flat and low both were, and how on both there came an unknown way and a dark mist and then the sea.
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