“Bring in your body,” said Sikes. “Lie down, you stupid brute. Don’t you know the devil when he’s got a great-coat on?” Apparently the dog had been somewhat deceived by Mr. Fagin’s outer garment; for as the Jew unbuttoned it, and threw it over the back of a chair, he retired to the corner from which he had risen, wagging his tail as he went, to show that he was as well satisfied as it was in his nature to be. “Well!” said Sikes. “Well, my dear,” replied the Jew. “Ah! Nancy.” The latter recognition was uttered with just enough of embarrassment to imply a doubt of its reception; for Mr. Fagin and his young friend had not met since she had interfered in behalf of Oliver. All doubts upon the subject, if he had any, were speedily removed by the young lady’s behaviour. She took her feet off the fender, pushed back her chair, and bade Fagin draw up his, without saying any more about it, for it was a cold night, and no mistake. “It _is_ cold, Nancy dear,” said the Jew, as he warmed his skinny hands over the fire. “It seems to go right through one,” added the old man, touching his left side. “It must be a piercer if it finds its way through your heart,” said Mr. Sikes. “Give him something to drink, Nancy. Burn my body, make haste. It’s enough to turn a man ill to see his lean old carcase shivering in that way, like a ugly ghost just rose from the grave.” Nancy quickly brought a bottle from a cupboard in which there were many, which, to judge from the diversity of their appearance, were filled with several kinds of liquids; and Sikes, pouring out a glass of brandy, bade the Jew drink it off. “Quite enough, quite, thankye, Bill,” replied the Jew, putting down the glass after just setting his lips to it. “What! you’re afraid of our getting the better of you, are you?” inquired Sikes, fixing his eyes on the Jew: “ugh!” With a hoarse grunt of contempt Mr. Sikes seized the glass and threw the remainder of its contents into the ashes, as a preparatory ceremony to filling it again for himself, which he did at once. The Jew glanced round the room as his companion tossed down the second glassful; not in curiosity, for he had seen it often before, but in a restless and suspicious manner which was habitual to him. It was a meanly furnished apartment, with nothing but the contents of the closet to induce the belief that its occupier was anything but a working man; and with no more suspicious articles displayed to view than two or three heavy bludgeons which stood in a corner, and a “life-preserver” that hung over the mantelpiece. “There,” said Sikes, smacking his lips. “Now I’m ready.” “For business—eh?” inquired the Jew. “For business,” replied Sikes; “so say what you’ve got to say.” “About the crib at Chertsey, Bill?” said the Jew, drawing his chair forward, and speaking in a very low voice. “Yes. Wot about it?” inquired Sikes. “Ah! you know what I mean, my dear,” said the Jew. “He knows what I mean, Nancy; don’t he?”