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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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'
Why
,
it
's
Nancy
!
'
exclaimed
Oliver
;
who
now
saw
her
face
for
the
first
time
;
and
started
back
,
in
irrepressible
astonishment
.
'
You
see
he
knows
me
!
'
cried
Nancy
,
appealing
to
the
bystanders
.
'
He
ca
n't
help
himself
.
Make
him
come
home
,
there
's
good
people
,
or
he
'll
kill
his
dear
mother
and
father
,
and
break
my
heart
!
'
'
What
the
devil
's
this
?
'
said
a
man
,
bursting
out
of
a
beer-shop
,
with
a
white
dog
at
his
heels
;
'
young
Oliver
!
Come
home
to
your
poor
mother
,
you
young
dog
!
Come
home
directly
.
'
'
I
do
n't
belong
to
them
.
I
do
n't
know
them
.
Help
!
help
!
cried
Oliver
,
struggling
in
the
man
's
powerful
grasp
.
'
Help
!
'
repeated
the
man
.
'
Yes
;
I
'll
help
you
,
you
young
rascal
!
What
books
are
these
?
You
've
been
a
stealing
'em
,
have
you
?
Give
'em
here
.
'
With
these
words
,
the
man
tore
the
volumes
from
his
grasp
,
and
struck
him
on
the
head
.
'
That
's
right
!
'
cried
a
looker-on
,
from
a
garret-window
'
That
's
the
only
way
of
bringing
him
to
his
senses
!
'
'
To
be
sure
!
'
cried
a
sleepy-faced
carpenter
,
casting
an
approving
look
at
the
garret-window
.
'
It
'll
do
him
good
!
'
said
the
two
women
.
