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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 223/420
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'
I
hope
you
do
n't
mean
to
say
,
sir
,
'
said
Mr.
Giles
,
trembling
,
'
that
he
's
going
to
die
.
If
I
thought
it
,
I
should
never
be
happy
again
.
I
would
n't
cut
a
boy
off
:
no
,
not
even
Brittles
here
;
not
for
all
the
plate
in
the
county
,
sir
.
'
'
That
's
not
the
point
,
'
said
the
doctor
,
mysteriously
.
'
Mr.
Giles
,
are
you
a
Protestant
?
'
'
Yes
,
sir
,
I
hope
so
,
'
faltered
Mr.
Giles
,
who
had
turned
very
pale
.
'
And
what
are
YOU
,
boy
?
'
said
the
doctor
,
turning
sharply
upon
Brittles
.
'
Lord
bless
me
,
sir
!
'
replied
Brittles
,
starting
violently
;
'
I
'm
the
same
as
Mr.
Giles
,
sir
.
'
'
Then
tell
me
this
,
'
said
the
doctor
,
'
both
of
you
,
both
of
you
!
Are
you
going
to
take
upon
yourselves
to
swear
,
that
that
boy
upstairs
is
the
boy
that
was
put
through
the
little
window
last
night
?
Out
with
it
!
Come
!
We
are
prepared
for
you
!
'
The
doctor
,
who
was
universally
considered
one
of
the
best-tempered
creatures
on
earth
,
made
this
demand
in
such
a
dreadful
tone
of
anger
,
that
Giles
and
Brittles
,
who
were
considerably
muddled
by
ale
and
excitement
,
stared
at
each
other
in
a
state
of
stupefaction
.
'
Pay
attention
to
the
reply
,
constable
,
will
you
?
'
said
the
doctor
,
shaking
his
forefinger
with
great
solemnity
of
manner
,
and
tapping
the
bridge
of
his
nose
with
it
,
to
bespeak
the
exercise
of
that
worthy
's
utmost
acuteness
.
'
Something
may
come
of
this
before
long
.
'
The
constable
looked
as
wise
as
he
could
,
and
took
up
his
staff
of
office
:
which
had
been
recling
indolently
in
the
chimney-corner
.
'
It
's
a
simple
question
of
identity
,
you
will
observe
,
'
said
the
doctor
.
