Олівер Твіст

Chapter 52

           Fagin,Fagin!Areyouaman?’

           ‘Ishan’tbeonelong,’hereplied,lookingupwithafaceretainingnohumanexpressionbutrageandterror.‘Strikethemalldead!Whatrighthavetheytobutcherme?’

           AshespokehecaughtsightofOliverandMr.Brownlow.Shrinkingtothefurthestcorneroftheseat,hedemandedtoknowwhattheywantedthere.

           ‘Steady,’saidtheturnkey,stillholdinghimdown.‘Now,sir,tellhimwhatyouwant.Quick,ifyouplease,forhegrowsworseasthetimegetson.

           ‘Youhavesomepapers,’saidMr.Brownlowadvancing,‘whichwereplacedinyourhands,forbettersecurity,byamancalledMonks.

           ‘It’sallalietogether,’repliedFagin.‘Ihaven’tonenotone.

           ‘FortheloveofGod,’saidMr.Brownlowsolemnly,‘donotsaythatnow,upontheveryvergeofdeath;buttellmewheretheyare.YouknowthatSikesisdead;thatMonkshasconfessed;thatthereisnohopeofanyfurthergain.Wherearethosepapers?’

           ‘Oliver,’criedFagin,beckoningtohim.‘Here,here!Letmewhispertoyou.

           ‘Iamnotafraid,’saidOliverinalowvoice,asherelinquishedMr.Brownlow’shand.

           ‘Thepapers,’saidFagin,drawingOlivertowardshim,‘areinacanvasbag,inaholealittlewayupthechimneyinthetopfront-room.Iwanttotalktoyou,mydear.Iwanttotalktoyou.

           ‘Yes,yes,’returnedOliver.‘Letmesayaprayer.Do!Letmesayoneprayer.Sayonlyone,uponyourknees,withme,andwewilltalktillmorning.

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