Олівер Твіст

Chapter 40

           Iamyoungerthanyouwouldthink,tolookatme,butIamwellusedtoit.Thepoorestwomenfallback,asImakemywayalongthecrowdedpavement.’

           ‘Whatdreadfulthingsarethese!’saidRose,involuntarilyfallingfromherstrangecompanion.

           ‘ThankHeavenuponyourknees,dearlady,’criedthegirl,‘thatyouhadfriendstocareforandkeepyouinyourchildhood,andthatyouwereneverinthemidstofcoldandhunger,andriotanddrunkenness,and—and—somethingworsethanall—asIhavebeenfrommycradle.Imayusetheword,forthealleyandthegutterweremine,astheywillbemydeathbed.’

           ‘Ipityyou!’saidRose,inabrokenvoice.‘Itwringsmyhearttohearyou!’

           ‘Heavenblessyouforyourgoodness!’rejoinedthegirl.‘IfyouknewwhatIamsometimes,youwouldpityme,indeed.ButIhavestolenawayfromthosewhowouldsurelymurderme,iftheyknewIhadbeenhere,totellyouwhatIhaveoverheard.DoyouknowamannamedMonks?’

           ‘No,’saidRose.

           ‘Heknowsyou,’repliedthegirl;‘andknewyouwerehere,foritwasbyhearinghimtelltheplacethatIfoundyouout.’

           ‘Ineverheardthename,’saidRose.

           ‘Thenhegoesbysomeotheramongstus,’rejoinedthegirl,‘whichImorethanthoughtbefore.Sometimeago,andsoonafterOliverwasputintoyourhouseonthenightoftherobbery,I—suspectingthisman—listenedtoaconversationheldbetweenhimandFagininthedark.

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