Олівер Твіст

Chapter 19

           Atlength,inafitofprofessionalenthusiasm,heinsisteduponproducinghisboxofhousebreakingtools:whichhehadnosoonerstumbledinwith,andopenedforthepurposeofexplainingthenatureandpropertiesofthevariousimplementsitcontained,andthepeculiarbeautiesoftheirconstruction,thanhefellovertheboxuponthefloor,andwenttosleepwherehefell.

           ‘Good-night,Nancy,’saidtheJew,mufflinghimselfupasbefore.

           ‘Good-night.

           Theireyesmet,andtheJewscrutinisedher,narrowly.Therewasnoflinchingaboutthegirl.ShewasastrueandearnestinthematterasTobyCrackithimselfcouldbe.

           TheJewagainbadehergood-night,and,bestowingaslykickupontheprostrateformofMr.Sikeswhileherbackwasturned,gropeddownstairs.

           ‘Alwaystheway!’mutteredtheJewtohimselfasheturnedhomeward.‘Theworstofthesewomenis,thataverylittlethingservestocallupsomelong-forgottenfeeling;and,thebestofthemis,thatitneverlasts.Ha!ha!Themanagainstthechild,forabagofgold!’

           Beguilingthetimewiththesepleasantreflections,Mr.Faginwendedhisway,throughmudandmire,tohisgloomyabode:wheretheDodgerwassittingup,impatientlyawaitinghisreturn.

           ‘IsOlivera-bed?Iwanttospeaktohim,’washisfirstremarkastheydescendedthestairs.

           ‘Hoursago,’repliedtheDodger,throwingopenadoor

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