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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 274/420
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'
Fill
this
glass
again
,
'
he
said
,
handing
Mr.
Bumble
's
empty
tumbler
to
the
landlord
.
'
Let
it
be
strong
and
hot
.
'
You
like
it
so
,
I
suppose
?
'
'
Not
too
strong
,
'
replied
Mr.
Bumble
,
with
a
delicate
cough
.
'
You
understand
what
that
means
,
landlord
!
'
said
the
stranger
,
drily
.
The
host
smiled
,
disappeared
,
and
shortly
afterwards
returned
with
a
steaming
jorum
:
of
which
,
the
first
gulp
brought
the
water
into
Mr.
Bumble
's
eyes
.
'
Now
listen
to
me
,
'
said
the
stranger
,
after
closing
the
door
and
window
.
'
I
came
down
to
this
place
,
to-day
,
to
find
you
out
;
and
,
by
one
of
those
chances
which
the
devil
throws
in
the
way
of
his
friends
sometimes
,
you
walked
into
the
very
room
I
was
sitting
in
,
while
you
were
uppermost
in
my
mind
.
I
want
some
information
from
you
.
I
do
n't
ask
you
to
give
it
for
mothing
,
slight
as
it
is
.
Put
up
that
,
to
begin
with
.
'
As
he
spoke
,
he
pushed
a
couple
of
sovereigns
across
the
table
to
his
companion
,
carefully
,
as
though
unwilling
that
the
chinking
of
money
should
be
heard
without
.
When
Mr.
Bumble
had
scrupulously
examined
the
coins
,
to
see
that
they
were
genuine
,
and
had
put
them
up
,
with
much
satisfaction
,
in
his
waistcoat-pocket
,
he
went
on
:
'
Carry
your
memory
back
--
let
me
see
--
twelve
years
,
last
winter
.
'
'
It
's
a
long
time
,
'
said
Mr.
Bumble
.
'
Very
good
.
I
've
done
it
.
'
'
The
scene
,
the
workhouse
.
'
