Олівер Твіст

Chapter 3

           who,despitealltheadmonitorylooksandpinchesofBumble,wasregardingtherepulsivecountenanceofhisfuturemaster,withamingledexpressionofhorrorandfear,toopalpabletobemistaken,evenbyahalf-blindmagistrate.

           Theoldgentlemanstopped,laiddownhispen,andlookedfromOlivertoMr.Limbkins;whoattemptedtotakesnuffwithacheerfulandunconcernedaspect.

           ‘Myboy!’saidtheoldgentleman,‘youlookpaleandalarmed.Whatisthematter?’

           ‘Standalittleawayfromhim,Beadle,’saidtheothermagistrate:layingasidethepaper,andleaningforwardwithanexpressionofinterest.‘Now,boy,telluswhat’sthematter:don’tbeafraid.

           Oliverfellonhisknees,andclaspinghishandstogether,prayedthattheywouldorderhimbacktothedarkroomthattheywouldstarvehimbeathimkillhimiftheypleasedratherthansendhimawaywiththatdreadfulman.

           ‘Well!’saidMr.Bumble,raisinghishandsandeyeswithmostimpressivesolemnite.‘Well!ofalltheartfulanddesigningorphansthateverIsee,Oliver,youareoneofthemostbare-facedest.

           ‘Holdyourtongue,Beadle,’saidthesecondoldgentleman,whenMr.Bumblehadgivenventtothiscompoundadjective.

           ‘Ibegyourworship’spardon,’saidMr.Bumble,incredulousofhavingheardaright.‘Didyourworshipspeaktome?’

           ‘Yes.Holdyourtongue.

           Mr.Bumblewasstupefiedwithastonishment.Abeadleorderedtoholdhistongue!Amoralrevolution!

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