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oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第42部分

小说: oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪)) 字数: 每页4000字

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her?” 

“Ay;” murmured the sick woman; relapsing into her former 
drowsy state; “what about her?—what about—I know!” she cried; 
jumping fiercely up; her face flushed; and her eyes starting from 
her head—“I robbed her; so I did! She wasn’t cold—I tell you she 
wasn’t cold; when I stole it!” 

“Stole what; for God’s sake?” cried the matron; with a gesture 
as if she would call for help。 

“It!” replied the woman; laying her hand over the other’s 
mouth。 “The only thing she had。 She wanted clothes to keep her 
warm; and food to eat; but she had kept it safe; and had it in her 
bosom。 It was gold; I tell you! Rich gold; that might have saved her 
life!” 

“Gold!” echoed the matron; bending eagerly over the woman as 
she fell back。 “Go on; go on—yes—what of it? Who was the 
mother? When was it?” 

“She charged me to keep it safe;” replied the woman; with a 
groan; “and trusted me as the only woman about her。 I stole it in 
my heart when she first showed it me hanging round her neck; 
and the child’s death; perhaps; is on me besides! They would have 
treated him better; if they had known it all!” 

“Known what?” asked the other。 “Speak!” 

“The boy grew so like his mother;” said the woman; rambling 
on; and not heeding the question; “that I could never forget it 

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when I saw his face。 Poor girl! poor girl! She was so young; too! 
Such a gentle lamb! Wait; there’s more to tell。 I have not told you 
all; have I?” 

“No; no;” replied the matron; inclining her head to catch the 
words; as they came more faintly from the dying woman。 “Be 
quick; or it may be too late!” 

“The mother;” said the woman; making a more violent effort 
than before—“the mother; when the pains of death first came 
upon her; whispered in my ear that if her baby was born alive; and 
thrived; the day might come when it would not feel so much 
disgraced to hear its poor young mother named。 ‘And oh; kind 
Heaven!’ she said; folding her thin hands together; ‘whether it be 
boy or girl; raise up some friends for it in this troubled world; and 
take pity upon a lonely; desolate child; abandoned to its mercy!’” 

“The boy’s name?” demanded the matron。 

“They called him Oliver;” replied the woman feebly。 “The gold I 
stole was—” 

“Yes; yes—what?” cried the other。 

She was bending eagerly over the woman to hear her reply; but 
drew back instinctively; as she once again rose; slowly and stiffly; 
into a sitting posture; then; clutching the coverlid with both hands; 
muttered some indistinct sounds in her throat and fell lifeless on 
the bed。 

***** 

“Stone dead!” said one of the old women; hurrying in as soon as 
the door was opened。 

“And nothing to tell; after all;” rejoined the matron; walking 

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carelessly away。 

The two crones; to all appearances; too busily occupied in the 
preparations for their dreadful duties to make any reply; were left 
alone; hovering about the body。 

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Oliver Twist 254 

Chapter 25 

Wherein This History Reverts To Mr。 Fagin And
Company。


While these things were passing in the country 
workhouse; Mr。 Fagin sat in the old den—the same 
from which Oliver had been removed by the girl— 
brooding over a dull; smoky fire。 He held a pair of bellows upon 
his knee; with which he had apparently been endeavouring to 
rouse it into more cheerful action; but he had fallen into deep 
thought; and with his arms folded on them; and his chin resting on 
his thumbs; fixed his eyes; abstractedly; on the rusty bars。 

At a table behind him sat the Artful Dodger; Master Charles 
Bates; and Mr。 Chitling; all intent upon a game of whist; the Artful 
taking dummy against Master Bates and Mr。 Chitling。 The 
countenance of the first…named gentleman; peculiarly intelligent at 
all times; acquired great additional interest from his close 
observance of the game; and his attentive perusal of Mr。 Chitling’s 
hand; upon which; from time to time; as occasion served; he 
bestowed a variety of earnest glances; wisely regulating his own 
play by the result of his observations upon his neighbour’s cards。 
It being a cold night; the Dodger wore his hat; as; indeed; was 
often his custom; within doors。 He also sustained a clay pipe 
between his teeth; which he only removed for a brief space when 
he deemed it necessary to apply for refreshment to a quart pot 
upon the table; which stood ready filled with gin…and…water for the 
accommodation of the company。 

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Master Bates was also attentive to his play; but being of a more 
excitable nature than his accomplished friend; it was observable 
that he more frequently applied himself to the gin…and…water; and 
moreover indulged in many jests and irrelevant remarks; all highly 
unbecoming a scientific rubber。 Indeed; the Artful; presuming 
upon their close attachment; more than once took occasion to 
reason gravely with his companion upon these improprieties; all of 
which remonstrances Master Bates received in extremely good 
part; merely requesting his friend to be “blowed;” or to insert his 
head in a sack; or replying with some other neatly…turned 
witticism of a similar kind; the happy application of which; excited 
considerable admiration in the mind of Mr。 Chitling。 It was 
remarkable that the latter gentleman and his partner invariably 
lost; and that the circumstance; so far from angering Master Bates; 
appeared to afford him the highest amusement; inasmuch as he 
laughed most uproariously at the end of every deal; and protested 
that he had never seen such a jolly game in all his born days。 

“That’s two doubles and the rub;” said Mr。 Chitling; with a very 
long face; as he drew half a crown from his waistcoat pocket。 “I 
never see such a feller as you; Jack; you win everything。 Even 
when we’ve good cards; Charley and I can’t make nothing of ’em。” 

Either the matter or the manner of this remark; which was 
made very ruefully; delighted Charley Bates so much; that his 
consequent shout of laughter roused the Jew from his reverie; and 
induced him to inquire what was the matter。 

“Matter; Fagin!” cried Charley。 “I wish you had watched the 
play。 Tommy Chitling hasn’t won a point; and I went partners with 
him against the Artful and him。” 

“Ay; ay!” said the Jew; with a grin; which sufficiently 

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demonstrated that he was at no loss to understand the reason。 
“Try ’em again; Tom; try ’em again。” 

“No more of it for me; thankee; Fagin;” replied Mr。 Chitling; 
“I’ve had enough。 That ’ere Dodger has such a run of luck that 
there’s no standing again’ him。” 

“Ha! ha! my dear;” replied the Jew; “you must get up very early 
in the morning; to win against the Dodger。” 

“Morning!” said Charley Bates; “you must put your boots on 
overnight; and have a telescope at each eye; and a opera…glass 
between your shoulders; if you want to come over him。” 

Mr。 Dawkins received these handsome compliments with much 
philosophy; and offered to cut any gentleman in company; for the 
first picture…card; at a shilling a time。 Nobody accepting the 
challenge; and his pipe being by this time smoked out; he 
proceeded to amuse himself by sketching a ground…plan of 
Newgate on the table with a piece of chalk which had served him 
in lieu of counters; whistling; meantime; with peculiar shrillness。 

“How precious dull you are; Tommy!” said the Dodger; 
stopping short when there had been a long silence; and addressing 
Mr。 Chitling。 “What do you think he’s thinking of; Fagin?” 

“How should I know; my dear?” replied the Jew; looking round 
as he plied the bellows。 “About his losses; maybe; or the little 
retirement in the country; that he’s just left; eh? Ha! ha! ha! Is that 
it; my dear?” 

“Not a bit of it;” replied the Dodger; stopping the subject of 
discourse as Mr。 Chitling was about to reply。 “What do you say; 
Charley?” 

“I should say;” replied Master Bates; with a grin; “that he was 
uncommon sweet upon Betsy。 See how he’s a…blushing! Oh; my 

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eye! here’s a merry…go…rounder! Tommy Chitling’s in love! Oh; 
Fagin; Fagin! what a spree!” 

Thoroughly overpowered with the notion of Mr。 Chitling being 
the victim of the tender passion; Master Bates threw himself back 
in his chair with such violence; that he lost his balance; and 
pitched over upon the floor; where (the accident abating nothing 
of his merriment) he lay at full length until his laugh was over; 
when he resumed his former position; and began another laugh。 

“Never mind him; my dear;” said the Jew; winking at Mr。 
Dawkins; and giving Master Bates a reproving tap with the nozzle 
of the bellows。 “Betsy’s a fine girl。 Stick up to her; Tom。 Stick up 
to her。” 

“What I mean to say; Fagin;” replied Mr。 Chitling; very red in 
the face; “is; that that isn’t anything to anybody here。” 

“No more it is;” replied the Jew; “Charley will talk。 Don’t mind 
him; my dear; don’t mind him。 Betsy’s a fine girl。 Do as she bids 
you; Tom; and you will make your fortune。” 

“So I do do as she bids me;” replied Mr。 Chitling; “I shouldn’t 
have been milled; if it hadn’t been for her advice。 But it turned out 
a good job for you; didn’t it; Fagin? And what’s six weeks of it? It 
must come; some time or another; and why not in the winter time 
when you don’t want to go out a…walking so much; eh; Fagin?” 

“Ah; to be sure; my dear;” replied the Jew。 

“You wouldn’t mind it again; Tom; would you;” asked the 
Dodger; winking upon Charley and the Jew; “if Bet was all right?” 

“I mean to say that I shouldn’t;” replied Tom angrily。 “There; 
now。 Ah! Who’ll say as much as that; I should like to know; eh; 
Fagin?” 

“Nobody; my dear;” replied the Jew; “not a soul; Tom。 I don’t 

Charles Dicken

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