‘It make 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?’
‘Not far.’
‘What answer’s that?’ retorted Sikes. ‘Do you hear me?’
‘I don’t know where,’ replied the girl.
‘Then I do,’ said Sikes, more in the spirit of obstinacy than because he had any real objection to the girl going where she listed. ‘Nowhere. Sit down.’
‘I’m not well. I told you that before,’ rejoined the girl. ‘I want a breath of air.’
‘Put your head out of the winder,’ replied Sikes.