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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 404/420
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'
I
bought
them
from
the
man
and
woman
I
told
you
of
,
who
stole
them
from
the
nurse
,
who
stole
them
from
the
corpse
,
'
answered
Monks
without
raising
his
eyes
.
'
You
know
what
became
of
them
.
'
Mr.
Brownlow
merely
nodded
to
Mr.
Grimwig
,
who
disappearing
with
great
alacrity
,
shortly
returned
,
pushing
in
Mrs.
Bumble
,
and
dragging
her
unwilling
consort
after
him
.
'
Do
my
hi
's
deceive
me
!
'
cried
Mr.
Bumble
,
with
ill-feigned
enthusiasm
,
'
or
is
that
little
Oliver
?
Oh
O-li-ver
,
if
you
know
'd
how
I
've
been
a-grieving
for
you
--
'
'
Hold
your
tongue
,
fool
,
'
murmured
Mrs.
Bumble
.
'
Is
n't
natur
,
natur
,
Mrs.
Bumble
?
'
remonstrated
the
workhouse
master
.
'
Ca
n't
I
be
supposed
to
feel
--
I
as
brought
him
up
porochially
--
when
I
see
him
a-setting
here
among
ladies
and
gentlemen
of
the
very
affablest
description
!
I
always
loved
that
boy
as
if
he
'd
been
my
--
my
--
my
own
grandfather
,
'
said
Mr.
Bumble
,
halting
for
an
appropriate
comparison
.
'
Master
Oliver
,
my
dear
,
you
remember
the
blessed
gentleman
in
the
white
waistcoat
?
Ah
!
he
went
to
heaven
last
week
,
in
a
oak
coffin
with
plated
handles
,
Oliver
.
'
'
Come
,
sir
,
'
said
Mr.
Grimwig
,
tartly
;
'
suppress
your
feelings
.
'
'
I
will
do
my
endeavours
,
sir
,
'
replied
Mr.
Bumble
.
'
How
do
you
do
,
sir
?
I
hope
you
are
very
well
.
'
This
salutation
was
addressed
to
Mr.
Brownlow
,
who
had
stepped
up
to
within
a
short
distance
of
the
respectable
couple
.
He
inquired
,
as
he
pointed
to
Monks
,
'
Do
you
know
that
person
?
'
