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oliver twist(雾都孤儿(孤星血泪))-第84章

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glancing; nevertheless; with a hawk’s eye at the girl and the two 
bundles。 “I’m in that way myself; and I like you for it。” 

“In what way?” asked Mr。 Claypole; a little recovering。 

“In that way of business;” rejoined Fagin; “and so are the 
people of the house。 You’ve hit the right nail upon the head; and 
are as safe here as you could be。 There is not a safer place in all 
this town than is the Cripples; that is; when I like to make it so。 
And I have taken a fancy to you and the young woman; so I’ve said 
the word; and you may make your minds easy。” 

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Noah Claypole’s mind might have been at ease after this 
assurance; but his body certainly was not; for he snuffled and 
writhed about; into various uncouth positions; eyeing his new 
friend meanwhile with mingled fear and suspicion。 

“I’ll tell you more;” said Fagin; after he had reassured the girl; 
by dint of friendly nods and muttered encouragements。 “I have got 
a friend that I think can gratify your darling wish; and put you in 
the right way; where you can take whatever department of the 
business you think will suit you best at first; and be taught all the 
others。” 

“Yer speak as if yer were in earnest;” replied Noah。 

“What advantage would it be to me to be anything else?” 
inquired Fagin; shrugging his shoulders。 “Here! Let me have a 
word with you outside。” 

“There’s no occasion to trouble ourselves to move;” said Noah; 
getting his legs by gradual degrees abroad—again。 “She’ll take the 
luggage upstairs the while。 Charlotte; see to them bundles!” 

This mandate; which had been delivered with great majesty; 
was obeyed without the slightest demur; and Charlotte made the 
best of her way off with the packages while Noah held the door 
open and watched her out。 

“She’s kept tolerably well under; ain’t she?” he asked; as he 
resumed his seat; in the tone of a keeper who has tamed some wild 
animal。 

“Quite perfect;” rejoined Fagin; clapping him on the shoulder。 
“You’re a genius; my dear。” 

“Why; I suppose if I wasn’t; I shouldn’t be here;” replied Noah。 
“But; I say; she’ll be back if yer lose time。” 

“Now; what do you think?” said Fagin。 “If you was to like my 

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friend; could you do better than join him?” 

“Is he in a good way of business; that’s where it is!” responded 
Noah; winking one of his little eyes。 

“The top of the tree;” said Fagin; “employs a power of hands; 
has the very best society in the profession。” 

“Regular town…maders?” asked Mr。 Claypole。 

“Not a countryman among ’em; and I don’t think he’d take you; 
even on my recommendation; if he didn’t run rather short of 
assistants just now;” replied Fagin。 

“Should I have to hand over?” said Noah; slapping his breeches 
pocket。 

“It couldn’t possibly be done without;” replied Fagin; in a most 
decided manner。 

“Twenty pound; though—it’s a lot of money!” 

“Not when it’s in a note you can’t get rid of;” retorted Fagin。 
“Number and date taken; I suppose! Payment stopped at the 
bank? Ah! It’s not worth much to him。 It’ll have to go abroad; and 
he couldn’t sell it for a great deal in the market。” 

“When could I see him?” asked Noah doubtfully。 

“Tomorrow morning。” 

“Where?” 

“Here。” 

“Um!” said Noah。 “What’s the wages?” 

“Live like a gentleman—board and lodging; pipes and spirits 
free—half of all you earn; and half of all the young woman earns;” 
replied Mr。 Fagin。 

Whether Noah Claypole; whose rapacity was none of the least 
comprehensive; would have acceded even to these glowing terms; 
had he been a perfectly free agent; is very doubtful; but as he 

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recollected that; in the event of his refusal it was in the power of 
his new acquaintance to give him up to justice immediately (and 
more unlikely things had come to pass); he gradually relented; and 
said he thought that would suit him。 

“But; yer see;” observed Noah; “as she will be able to do a good 
deal; I should like to take something very light。” 

“A little fancy work?” suggested Fagin。 

“Ah! something of that sort;” replied Noah。 “What do you think 
would suit me now? Something not too trying for the strength; and 
not very dangerous; you know。 That’s the sort of thing!” 

“I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon the others; 
my dear;” said Fagin。 “My friend wants somebody who would do 
that well; very much。” 

“Why; I did mention that; and I shouldn’t mind turning my 
hand to it sometimes;” rejoined Mr。 Claypole slowly; “but it 
wouldn’t pay by itself; you know。” 

“That’s true!” observed the Jew; ruminating or pretending to 
ruminate。 “No; it might not。” 

“What do you think; then?” asked Noah; anxiously regarding 
him。 “Something in the sneaking way; where it was pretty sure 
work; and not much more risk than being at home。” 

“What do you think of the old ladies?” asked Fagin。 “There’s a 
good deal of money made in snatching their bags and parcels; and 
running round the corner。” 

“Don’t they holler out a good deal; and scratch sometimes?” 
asked Noah; shaking his head。 “I don’t think that would answer 
my purpose。 Ain’t there any other line open?” 

“Stop!” said Fagin; laying his hand on Noah’s knee。 “The 
kinchin lay。” 

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“What’s that?” demanded Mr。 Claypole。 

“The kinchins; my dear;” said Fagin; “is the young children 
that’s sent on errands by their mothers; with sixpences and 
shillings; and the lay is just to take their money away—they’ve 
always got it ready in their hands—then knock ’em into a kennel; 
and walk off very slow; as if there were nothing else the matter but 
a child fallen down and hurt itself。 Ha! ha! ha!” 

“Ha! ha!” roared Mr。 Claypole; kicking up his legs in an ecstasy。 
“Lord; that’s the very thing!” 

“To be sure it is;” replied Fagin; “and you can have a few good 
beats chalked out in Camden Town; and Battle Bridge; and 
neighbourhoods like that; where they’re always going errands; and 
you can upset as many kinchins as you want; any hour in the day。 
Ha! ha! ha!” 

With this; Fagin poked Mr。 Claypole in the side; and they joined 
in a burst of laughter both long and loud。 

“Well; that’s all right!” said Noah; when he had recovered 
himself; and Charlotte had returned。 “What time tomorrow shall 
we say?” 

“Will ten do?” asked Fagin; adding; as Mr。 Claypole nodded 
assent; “What name shall I tell my good friend?” 

“Mr。 Bolter;” replied Noah; who had prepared himself for such 
an emergency。 “Mr。 Morris Bolter。 This is Mrs。 Bolter。” 

“Mrs。 Bolter’s humble servant;” said Fagin; bowing with 
grotesque politeness。 “I hope I shall know her better very shortly。” 

“Do you hear the gentleman; Charlotte?” thundered Mr。 
Claypole。 

“Yes; Noah; dear!” replied Mrs。 Bolter; extending her hand。 

“She calls me Noah; as a sort of fond way of talking;” said Mr。 

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Morris Bolter; late Claypole; turning to Fagin。 “You understand?” 

“Oh; yes; I understand—perfectly;” replied Fagin; telling the 
truth for once。 “Good…night! Good…night!” 

With many adieus and good wishes; Mr。 Fagin went his way。 
Noah Claypole; bespeaking his good lady’s attention; proceeded to 
enlighten her relative to the arrangement he had made; with all 
that haughtiness and air of superiority; becoming; not only a 
member of the sterner sex; but a gentleman who appreciated the 
dignity of a special appointment on the kinchin lay; in London and 
its vicinity。 

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Oliver Twist 460 

Chapter 43 

Wherein Is Shown How The Artful Dodger Got Into
Trouble。


 “A nd so it was you that was your own friend; was 
it?” asked Mr。 Claypole; otherwise Bolter; when; 
by virtue of the compact entered into between 
them; he had removed next day to Fagin’s house。 “’Cod; I thought 
as much last night!” 

“Every man’s his own friend; my dear;” replied Fagin; with his 
most insinuating grin。 “He hasn’t as good a one as himself 
anywhere。” 

“Except sometimes;” replied Morris Bolter; assuming the air of 
a man of the world。 “Some people are nobody’s enemies but their 
own; yer know。” 

“Don’t believe that;” said Fagin。 “When a man’s his own enemy; 
it’s only because he’s too much his own friend; not because he’s 
careful for everybody but himself。 Pooh! pooh! There ain’t such a 
thing in nature。” 

“There oughtn’t to be; if there is;” replied Mr。 Bolter。 

“That stands to reason;” said Fagin。 “Some conjurers say that 
number three is the magic number; and some say number seven。 
It’s neither; my friend; neither。 It’s number one。” 

“Ha! ha!” cried Mr。 Bolter。 “Number one for ever。” 

“In a little community like ours; my dear;” said Fagin; who felt 
i
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