Олівер Твіст

Chapter 32

           ‘Hashe,ma’am?’criedOliver,hisfacebrighteningwithpleasure.‘Idon’tknowwhatIshalldoforjoywhenIseetheirkindfacesonceagain!’

           InashorttimeOliverwassufficientlyrecoveredtoundergothefatigueofthisexpedition.OnemorningheandMr.Losbernesetout,accordingly,inalittlecarriagewhichbelongedtoMrs.Maylie.WhentheycametoChertseyBridge,Oliverturnedverypale,andutteredaloudexclamation.

           ‘What’sthematterwiththeboy?’criedthedoctor,asusual,allinabustle.‘Doyouseeanythinghearanythingfeelanythingeh?’

           ‘That,sir,’criedOliver,pointingoutofthecarriagewindow.‘Thathouse!’

           ‘Yes;well,whatofit?Stopcoachman.Pulluphere,’criedthedoctor.‘Whatofthehouse,myman;eh?’

           ‘Thethievesthehousetheytookmeto!’whisperedOliver.

           ‘Thedevilitis!’criedthedoctor.‘Hallo,there!letmeout!’

           But,beforethecoachmancoulddismountfromhisbox,hehadtumbledoutofthecoach,bysomemeansorother;and,runningdowntothedesertedtenement,begankickingatthedoorlikeamadman.

           ‘Halloa?’saidalittleuglyhump-backedman:openingthedoorsosuddenly,thatthedoctor,fromtheveryimpetusofhislastkick,nearlyfellforwardintothepassage.‘What’sthematterhere?’

           ‘Matter!’exclaimedtheother,collaringhim,withoutamoment’sreflection.‘Agooddeal.Robberyisthematter.

           ‘There’llbeMurderthematter,too,’repliedthehump-backedman,coolly,‘ifyoudon’ttakeyourhandsoff.

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