The Jew rubbed his hands, and, sitting down at the table, affected to laugh at the pleasantry of his friend,—obviously very ill at his ease, however.
"Grin away," said Sikes, replacing the poker, and surveying him with savage contempt; "grin away. You'll never have the laugh at me, though, unless it's behind a night-cap. I've got the upper hand over you, Fagin; and, d— me, I'll keep it. There. If I go, you go; so take care of me."
"Well, well, my dear," said the Jew, "I know all that; we—we—have a mutual interest. Bill,—a mutual interest."
"Humph," said Sikes, as if he thought the interest lay rather more on the Jew's side than on his. "Well, what have you got to say to me?"
"It's all passed safe through the melting-pot," replied Fagin, "and this is your share. It's rather more than it ought to be, my dear; but as I know you'll do me a good turn another time, and"
"'Stow that gammon," interposed the robber impatiently. "Where is it? Hand over!"
