It was Monks.

“Only one of my young people,” said Fagin, observing that Monks drew back, on beholding a stranger. “Don’t move, Nancy.”

The girl drew closer to the table, and glancing at Monks with an air of careless levity, withdrew her eyes; but as he turned towards Fagin, she stole another look; so keen and searching, and full of purpose, that if there had been any bystander to observe the change, he could hardly have believed the two looks to have proceeded from the same person.

“Any news?” inquired Fagin.

“Great.”

“And⁠—and⁠—good?” asked Fagin, hesitating as though he feared to vex the other man by being too sanguine.

“Not bad, any way,” replied Monks with a smile. “I have been prompt enough this time. Let me have a word with you.”