Олівер Твіст

Chapter 42

           Thus,theyhadtoiledalongthedustyroad,takinglittleheedofanyobjectwithinsight,savewhentheysteppedasidetoallowawiderpassageforthemail-coacheswhichwerewhirlingoutoftown,untiltheypassedthroughHighgatearchway;whentheforemosttravellerstoppedandcalledimpatientlytohiscompanion,

           ‘Comeon,can’tyer?Whatalazybonesyerare,Charlotte.

           ‘It’saheavyload,Icantellyou,’saidthefemale,comingup,almostbreathlesswithfatigue.

           ‘Heavy!Whatareyertalkingabout?Whatareyermadefor?’rejoinedthemaletraveller,changinghisownlittlebundleashespoke,totheothershoulder.‘Oh,thereyerare,restingagain!

           Well,ifyerain’tenoughtotireanybody’spatienceout,Idon’tknowwhatis!’

           ‘Isitmuchfarther?’askedthewoman,restingherselfagainstabank,andlookingupwiththeperspirationstreamingfromherface.

           ‘Muchfarther!Yerasgoodasthere,’saidthelong-leggedtramper,pointingoutbeforehim.‘Lookthere!ThosearethelightsofLondon.

           ‘They’reagoodtwomileoff,atleast,’saidthewomandespondingly.

           ‘Nevermindwhetherthey’retwomileoff,ortwenty,’saidNoahClaypole;forheitwas;‘butgetupandcomeon,orI’llkickyer,andsoIgiveyernotice.

           AsNoah’srednosegrewredderwithanger,andashecrossedtheroadwhilespeaking,asiffullypreparedtoputhisthreatintoexecution,thewomanrosewithoutanyfurtherremark,andtrudgedonwardbyhisside.

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