“I don’t feel like myself when you lay that withered old claw on my shoulder, so take it away,” said Sikes, casting off the Jew’s hand.

“It makes you nervous, Bill⁠—reminds you of being nabbed, does it?” said Fagin, determined not to be offended.

“Reminds me of being nabbed by the devil,” returned Sikes. “There never was another man with such a face as yours, unless it was your father, and I suppose he is singeing his grizzled red beard by this time, unless you came straight from the old ’un without any father at all betwixt you; which I shouldn’t wonder at, a bit.”

Fagin offered no reply to this compliment: but, pulling Sikes by the sleeve, pointed his finger towards Nancy, who had taken advantage of the foregoing conversation to put on her bonnet, and was now leaving the room.

“Hallo!” cried Sikes. “Nance. Where’s the gal going to at this time of night?”