“I don’t care for that, Bill, I don’t care for that,” screamed the girl, struggling violently with the man: “the child shan’t be torn down by the dog, unless you kill me first.”
“Shan’t he!” said Sikes, setting his teeth. “I’ll soon do that, if you don’t keep off.”
The housebreaker flung the girl from him to the further end of the room, just as the Jew and the two boys returned, dragging Oliver among them.
“What’s the matter here!” said Fagin, looking round.
“The girl’s gone mad, I think,” replied Sikes, savagely.
“No, she hasn’t,” said Nancy, pale and breathless from the scuffle; “no, she hasn’t, Fagin; don’t think it.”
“Then keep quiet, will you?” said the Jew, with a threatening look.
“No, I won’t do that, neither,” replied Nancy, speaking very loud. “Come! What do you think of that?”
Mr. Fagin was sufficiently well acquainted with the manners and customs of that particular species of humanity to which Nancy belonged, to feel tolerably certain that it would be rather unsafe to prolong any conversation with her, at present. With the view of diverting the attention of the company, he turned to Oliver.
“So you wanted to get away, my dear, did you?” said the Jew, taking up a jagged and knotted club which lay in a corner of the fireplace; “eh?”
Oliver made no reply. But he watched the Jew’s motions, and breathed quickly.