Оливер Твист

Chapter 2

           Nothavingaveryclearlydefinednotionofwhataliveboardwas,Oliverwasratherastoundedbythisintelligence,andwasnotquitecertainwhetherheoughttolaughorcry.Hehadnotimetothinkaboutthematter,however;forMr.Bumblegavehimataponthehead,withhiscane,towakehimup:andanotheronthebacktomakehimlively:andbiddinghimtofollow,conductedhimintoalargewhite-washedroom,whereeightortenfatgentlemenweresittingroundatable.Atthetopofthetable,seatedinanarm-chairratherhigherthantherest,wasaparticularlyfatgentlemanwithaveryround,redface.

           ‘Bowtotheboard,’saidBumble.Oliverbrushedawaytwoorthreetearsthatwerelingeringinhiseyes;andseeingnoboardbutthetable,fortunatelybowedtothat.

           ‘What’syourname,boy?’saidthegentlemaninthehighchair.

           Oliverwasfrightenedatthesightofsomanygentlemen,whichmadehimtremble:andthebeadlegavehimanothertapbehind,whichmadehimcry.Thesetwocausesmadehimanswerinaverylowandhesitatingvoice;whereuponagentlemaninawhitewaistcoatsaidhewasafool.Whichwasacapitalwayofraisinghisspirits,andputtinghimquiteathisease.

           ‘Boy,’saidthegentlemaninthehighchair,‘listentome.Youknowyou’reanorphan,Isuppose?’

           ‘What’sthat,sir?’inquiredpoorOliver.

           ‘TheboyISafoolIthoughthewas,’saidthegentlemaninthewhitewaistcoat.

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