and Mrs Phelps always felt sad when the time came for her to cross the floor and say; “It's ten to five, Matilda.”
During the first week of Matilda's visits Mrs Phelps had said to her, “Does your mother walk you down here every day and then take you home?”
“My mother goes to Aylesbury every afternoon to play bingo,” Matilda had said. “She doesn't know I come here.”
“But that's surely not right,” Mrs Phelps said. “I think you'd better ask her.”
“I'd rather not,” Matilda said. “She doesn't encourage reading books. Nor does my father.”
“But what do they expect you to do every afternoon in an empty house?”
“Just mooch around and watch the telly.” “I see.”
“She doesn't really care what I do,” Matilda said a little sadly.
Mrs Phelps was concerned about the child's safety on the walk through the fairly busy village High Street and the crossing of the road,
but she decided not to interfere. Within a week, Matilda had finished Great Expectations
which in that edition contained four hundred and eleven pages.
“I loved it,” she said to Mrs Phelps. “Has Mr Dickens written any others?”
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