glances on his legs and boots till they were out of sight, assured the company that he considered his acquaintance cheap at fifteen sixpences an interview, and that he didn't value his losses the snap of a little finger.
"Wot a rum chap you are, Tom!" said Master Bates, highly amused by this declaration.
"Not a bit of it," replied Mr. Chitling: "am I, Fagin?"
"A very clever fellow, my dear," said the Jew, patting him on the shoulder, and winking to his other pupils.
"And Mr. Crackit is a heavy swell, an't he, Fagin?" asked Tom.
"No doubt at all of that, my dear," replied the Jew.
"And it is a creditable thing to have his acquaintance, an't it, Fagin?" pursued Tom.
"Very much so, indeed, my dear," replied the Jew. "They're only jealous, Tom, because he won't give it to them."
"Ah!" cried Tom, triumphantly, "that's where it is. He has cleaned me out; but I can