Олівер Твіст

Chapter 40

           ‘Iamverysorryifanyonehasbehavedharshlytoyou,’repliedRose.‘Donotthinkofthat.Tellmewhyyouwishedtoseeme.Iamthepersonyouinquiredfor.’

           Thekindtoneofthisanswer,thesweetvoice,thegentlemanner,theabsenceofanyaccentofhaughtinessordispleasure,tookthegirlcompletelybysurprise,andsheburstintotears.

           ‘Oh,lady,lady!’shesaid,claspingherhandspassionatelybeforeherface,‘iftherewasmorelikeyou,therewouldbefewerlikeme—therewould—therewould!’

           ‘Sitdown,’saidRose,earnestly.‘IfyouareinpovertyorafflictionIshallbetrulygladtorelieveyouifIcan—Ishallindeed.Sitdown.’

           ‘Letmestand,lady,’saidthegirl,stillweeping,‘anddonotspeaktomesokindlytillyouknowmebetter.Itisgrowinglate.Is—is—thatdoorshut?’

           ‘Yes,’saidRose,recoilingafewsteps,asiftobenearerassistanceincasesheshouldrequireit.‘Why?’

           ‘Because,’saidthegirl,‘Iamabouttoputmylifeandthelivesofothersinyourhands.IamthegirlthatdraggedlittleOliverbacktooldFagin’sonthenighthewentoutfromthehouseinPentonville.’

           ‘You!’saidRoseMaylie.

           ‘I,lady!’repliedthegirl.‘Iamtheinfamouscreatureyouhaveheardof,thatlivesamongthethieves,andthatneverfromthefirstmomentIcanrecollectmyeyesandsensesopeningonLondonstreetshaveknownanybetterlife,orkinderwordsthantheyhavegivenme,sohelpmeGod!Donotmindshrinkingopenlyfromme,lady.

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