Олівер Твіст

Chapter 19

           Itwasameanlyfurnishedapartment,withnothingbutthecontentsoftheclosettoinducethebeliefthatitsoccupierwasanythingbutaworkingman;andwithnomoresuspiciousarticlesdisplayedtoviewthantwoorthreeheavybludgeonswhichstoodinacorner,anda‘life-preserver’thathungoverthechimney-piece.

           ‘There,’saidSikes,smackinghislips.‘NowI’mready.

           ‘Forbusiness?’inquiredtheJew.

           ‘Forbusiness,’repliedSikes;‘sosaywhatyou’vegottosay.

           ‘AboutthecribatChertsey,Bill?’saidtheJew,drawinghischairforward,andspeakinginaverylowvoice.

           ‘Yes.Wotaboutit?’inquiredSikes.

           ‘Ah!youknowwhatImean,mydear,’saidtheJew.‘HeknowswhatImean,Nancy;don’the?’

           ‘No,hedon’t,’sneeredMr.Sikes.‘Orhewon’t,andthat’sthesamething.Speakout,andcallthingsbytheirrightnames;don’tsitthere,winkingandblinking,andtalkingtomeinhints,asifyouwarn’ttheveryfirstthatthoughtabouttherobbery.Wotd’yemean?’

           ‘Hush,Bill,hush!’saidtheJew,whohadinvainattemptedtostopthisburstofindignation;‘somebodywillhearus,mydear.Somebodywillhearus.

           ‘Let’emhear!’saidSikes;‘Idon’tcare.ButasMr.SikesDIDcare,onreflection,hedroppedhisvoiceashesaidthewords,andgrewcalmer.

           ‘There,there,’saidtheJew,coaxingly.‘Itwasonlymycaution,nothingmore.

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