Олівер Твіст

Chapter 25

           Hush!Quiet,Charley!Gently,Tom!Scarce,scarce!’

           ThisbriefdirectiontoCharleyBates,andhisrecentantagonist,wassoftlyandimmediatelyobeyed.Therewasnosoundoftheirwhereabout,whentheDodgerdescendedthestairs,bearingthelightinhishand,andfollowedbyamaninacoarsesmock-frock;who,aftercastingahurriedglanceroundtheroom,pulledoffalargewrapperwhichhadconcealedthelowerportionofhisface,anddisclosed:allhaggard,unwashed,andunshorn:thefeaturesofflashTobyCrackit.

           ‘Howareyou,Faguey?’saidthisworthy,noddingtotheJew.‘Popthatshawlawayinmycastor,Dodger,sothatImayknowwheretofinditwhenIcut;that’sthetimeofday!You’llbeafineyoungcracksmanaforetheoldfilenow.

           Withthesewordshepulledupthesmock-frock;and,windingitroundhismiddle,drewachairtothefire,andplacedhisfeetuponthehob.

           ‘Seethere,Faguey,’hesaid,pointingdisconsolatelytohistopboots;‘notadropofDayandMartinsinceyouknowwhen;notabubbleofblacking,byJove!Butdon’tlookatmeinthatway,man.Allingoodtime.Ican’ttalkaboutbusinesstillI’veeatanddrank;soproducethesustainance,andlet’shaveaquietfill-outforthefirsttimethesethreedays!’

           TheJewmotionedtotheDodgertoplacewhateatablestherewere,uponthetable;and,seatinghimselfoppositethehousebreaker,waitedhisleisure.

           Tojudgefromappearances,Tobywasbynomeansinahurrytoopentheconversation.

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