Олівер Твіст

Chapter 9

           ‘Ifyouplease,sir,’saidOliver.

           ‘You’dliketobeabletomakepocket-handkerchiefsaseasyasCharleyBates,wouldn’tyou,mydear?’saidtheJew.

           ‘Verymuch,indeed,ifyou’llteachme,sir,’repliedOliver.

           MasterBatessawsomethingsoexquisitelyludicrousinthisreply,thatheburstintoanotherlaugh;whichlaugh,meetingthecoffeehewasdrinking,andcarryingitdownsomewrongchannel,verynearlyterminatedinhisprematuresuffocation.

           ‘Heissojollygreen!’saidCharleywhenherecovered,asanapologytothecompanyforhisunpolitebehaviour.

           TheDodgersaidnothing,buthesmoothedOliver’shairoverhiseyes,andsaidhe’dknowbetter,byandby;uponwhichtheoldgentleman,observingOliver’scolourmounting,changedthesubjectbyaskingwhethertherehadbeenmuchofacrowdattheexecutionthatmorning?Thismadehimwondermoreandmore;foritwasplainfromtherepliesofthetwoboysthattheyhadbothbeenthere;andOlivernaturallywonderedhowtheycouldpossiblyhavefoundtimetobesoveryindustrious.

           Whenthebreakfastwasclearedaway;themerryoldgentlmanandthetwoboysplayedataverycuriousanduncommongame,whichwasperformedinthisway.Themerryoldgentleman,placingasnuff-boxinonepocketofhistrousers,anote-caseintheother,andawatchinhiswaistcoatpocket,withaguard-chainroundhisneck,andstickingamockdiamondpininhisshirt:buttonedhiscoattightroundhim,andputtinghisspectacle-caseandhandkerchiefinhispockets,trottedupanddowntheroomwithastick,inimitationofthemannerinwhicholdgentlmenwalkaboutthestreetsanyhourintheday.

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