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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 332/420
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'
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
.
'
And
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
has
n'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
.
'
'
Do
n'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
ai
n't
such
a
thing
in
nature
.
'
'
There
ough
n't
to
be
,
if
there
is
,
'
replied
Mr.
Bolter
.
'
That
stands
to
reason
.
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
.
'
