Олівер Твіст

Chapter 39

           Chitlingintentupontheirfifteenthgameatcribbage,whichitisscarcelynecessarytosaythelattergentlemanlost,andwithit,hisfifteenthandlastsixpence:muchtotheamusementofhisyoungfriends.Mr.Crackit,apparentlysomewhatashamedatbeingfoundrelaxinghimselfwithagentlemansomuchhisinferiorinstationandmentalendowments,yawned,andinquiringafterSikes,tookuphishattogo.

           ‘Hasnobodybeen,Toby?’askedFagin.

           ‘Notalivingleg,’answeredMr.Crackit,pullinguphiscollar;‘it’sbeenasdullasswipes.Yououghttostandsomethinghandsome,Fagin,torecompensemeforkeepinghousesolong.Damme,I’masflatasajuryman;andshouldhavegonetosleep,asfastasNewgate,ifIhadn’thadthegoodnatur’toamusethisyoungster.Horriddull,I’mblessedifIan’t!’

           Withtheseandotherejaculationsofthesamekind,Mr.TobyCrackitsweptuphiswinnings,andcrammedthemintohiswaistcoatpocketwithahaughtyair,asthoughsuchsmallpiecesofsilverwerewhollybeneaththeconsiderationofamanofhisfigure;thisdone,heswaggeredoutoftheroom,withsomucheleganceandgentility,thatMr.Chitling,bestowingnumerousadmiringglancesonhislegsandbootstilltheywereoutofsight,assuredthecompanythatheconsideredhisacquaintancecheapatfifteensixpencesaninterview,andthathedidn’tvaluehislossesthesnapofhislittlefinger.

           ‘Wotarumchapyouare,Tom!’saidMasterBates,highlyamusedbythisdeclaration.

           ‘Notabitofit,’repliedMr.Chitling.

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