Олівер Твіст

Chapter 9

           ‘Well,’saidtheJew,glancingslylyatOliver,andaddressinghimselftotheDodger,‘Ihopeyou’vebeenatworkthismorning,mydears?’

           ‘Hard,’repliedtheDodger.

           ‘Asnails,’addedCharleyBates.

           ‘Goodboys,goodboys!’saidtheJew.‘Whathaveyougot,Dodger?’

           ‘Acoupleofpocket-books,’repliedthatyounggentlman.

           ‘Lined?’inquiredtheJew,witheagerness.

           ‘Prettywell,’repliedtheDodger,producingtwopocket-books;onegreen,andtheotherred.

           ‘Notsoheavyastheymightbe,’saidtheJew,afterlookingattheinsidescarefully;‘butveryneatandnicelymade.Ingeniousworkman,ain’the,Oliver?’

           ‘Veryindeed,sir,’saidOliver.AtwhichMr.CharlesBateslaugheduproariously;verymuchtotheamazementofOliver,whosawnothingtolaughat,inanythingthathadpassed.

           ‘Andwhathaveyougot,mydear?’saidFagintoCharleyBates.

           ‘Wipes,’repliedMasterBates;atthesametimeproducingfourpocket-handkerchiefs.

           ‘Well,’saidtheJew,inspectingthemclosely;‘they’reverygoodones,very.Youhaven’tmarkedthemwell,though,Charley;sothemarksshallbepickedoutwithaneedle,andwe’llteachOliverhowtodoit.Shallus,Oliver,eh?Ha!ha!ha!’

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