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"Who is it that says he is your father?" he demanded, abruptly. "Do you want to get him into trouble?" "No, I don't want to get him into trouble, or you either. Better tell me all, and I will be your friend." "You're a better sort than I thought at first," said Dodger. "The man I live with is called Tim Bolton." "I though so," quickly ejaculated Curtis.
All I have to live upon in my old age. The folks call me a miser, my dear. Only a miser; that's all." Oliver thought the old gentleman must be a decided miser to live in such a dirty place, with so many watches; but thinking that perhaps his fondness for the Dodger and the other boys, cost him a good deal of money, he only cast a deferential look at the Jew, and asked if he might get up.
Chitling. 'What do you think he's thinking of, Fagin? 'How should I know, my dear? replied the Jew, looking round as he plied the bellows. 'About his losses, maybe; or the little retirement in the country that he's just left, eh? Ha! ha! Is that it, my dear? 'Not a bit of it, replied the Dodger, stopping the subject of discourse as Mr. Chitling was about to reply. 'What do you say, Charley?
He had scarcely washed himself, and made everything tidy, by emptying the basin out of the window, agreeably to the Jew's directions, when the Dodger returned: accompanied by a very sprightly young friend, whom Oliver had seen smoking on the previous night, and who was now formally introduced to him as Charley Bates.
'And make your fortun' out of hand? added the Dodger, with a grin. 'And so be able to retire on your property, and do the gen-teel: as I mean to, in the very next leap-year but four that ever comes, and the forty-second Tuesday in Trinity-week, said Charley Bates. 'I don't like it, rejoined Oliver, timidly; 'I wish they would let me go. I I would rather go.
The immediate approach to the trenches is usually marked by what sailors call a "dodger," which is to say, a series of canvas screens. These do not conceal your legs, and if you are exceptionally tall, they may not conceal your head. Your feet don't matter, but if you are wise you duck your head.
This unexpected offer of shelter was too tempting to be resisted, and on the way to London, where they arrived at nightfall, Oliver learnt that his friend's name was Jack Dawkins, but that he was known among his intimates as "The Artful Dodger." In Field Lane, in the slums of Saffron Hill, the Dodger pushed open the door of a house, and drew Oliver within.
What parts of my new hat are left?" "Only the becoming ones." She sped on up the stairs. After her first imperative inquiries of the mirror concerning what she considered her wild appearance, she picked up the letters on her dressing table and began to run through them. The large black type of an advertising dodger loomed among the letters. Pauline tripped down the stairs.
"If the old dodger isn't quite paying his way now, no doubt he has more than paid it many times in the past," he mused. "This is an occasion upon which to temper justice with mercy." But it was in the planning and building of the house he found his real delight. He laid it out on very modest lines, as became the amount of money he was prepared to spend.
These things looked so bad, that Oliver was on the point of declaring his intention of seeking his way back, in the best way he could; when his thoughts were suddenly directed into another channel, by a very mysterious change of behaviour on the part of the Dodger.
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