Олівер Твіст

Chapter 19

           ‘Itiscold,Nancydear,’saidtheJew,ashewarmedhisskinnyhandsoverthefire.‘Itseemstogorightthroughone,’addedtheoldman,touchinghisside.

           ‘Itmustbeapiercer,ifitfindsitswaythroughyourheart,’saidMr.Sikes.‘Givehimsomethingtodrink,Nancy.Burnmybody,makehaste!It’senoughtoturnamanill,toseehisleanoldcarcaseshiveringinthatway,likeauglyghostjustrosefromthegrave.

           Nancyquicklybroughtabottlefromacupboard,inwhichthereweremany:which,tojudgefromthediversityoftheirappearance,werefilledwithseveralkindsofliquids.Sikespouringoutaglassofbrandy,badetheJewdrinkitoff.

           ‘Quiteenough,quite,thankye,Bill,’repliedtheJew,puttingdowntheglassafterjustsettinghislipstoit.

           ‘What!You’reafraidofourgettingthebetterofyou,areyou?’inquiredSikes,fixinghiseyesontheJew.‘Ugh!’

           Withahoarsegruntofcontempt,Mr.Sikesseizedtheglass,andthrewtheremainderofitscontentsintotheashes:asapreparatoryceremonytofillingitagainforhimself:whichhedidatonce.

           TheJewglancedroundtheroom,ashiscompaniontosseddownthesecondglassful;notincuriousity,forhehadseenitoftenbefore;butinarestlessandsuspiciousmannerhabitualtohim.

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