“She’s kept tolerably well under, ain’t she?” he asked as he resumed his seat: in the tone of a keeper who had tamed some wild animal.

“Quite perfect,” rejoined Fagin, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a genius, my dear.”

“Why, I suppose if I wasn’t, I shouldn’t be here,” replied Noah. “But, I say, she’ll be back if yer lose time.”

“Now, what do you think?” said Fagin. “If you was to like my friend, could you do better than join him?”

“Is he in a good way of business? that’s where it is!” responded Noah, winking one of his little eyes.

“The top of the tree; employs a power of hands; has the very best society in the profession.”

“Regular town-maders?” asked Mr. Claypole.