“When is it to be done?” asked Nancy, stopping some turbulent exclamation on the part of Mr. Sikes, expressive of the disgust with which he received Fagin’s affectation of humanity.

“Ah, to be sure,” said the Jew; “when is it to be done, Bill?”

“I planned with Toby, the night arter tomorrow,” rejoined Sikes in a surly voice, “if he heerd nothing from me to the contrairy.”

“Good,” said the Jew; “there’s no moon.”

“No,” rejoined Sikes.

“It’s all arranged about bringing off the swag, is it?” asked the Jew.

Sikes nodded.

“And about⁠—”