Oliver Twist.
173
"Thank you, sir," said Mr. Giles. "Misses wished some ale to be given out, sir, and as I felt noways inclined for my own little room, sir, and disposed for company, I am taking mine among 'em here."
Brittles headed a low murmur by which the ladies and gentlemen generally, were understood to express the gratification they derived from Mr. Giles's condescension; and Mr. Giles looked round with a patronising air, as much as to say that so long as they behaved properly, he would never desert them.
"How is the patient to-night, sir?" asked Giles.
"So-so;" returned the doctor. "I am afraid you have got yourself into a scrape there, Mr. Giles."
"I hope you don't mean to say, sir," said Mr. Giles, trembling, "that he's going to die. If I thought it, I should never be happy again. I wouldn't cut a boy off, no, not even Brittles here, not for all the plate in the country, sir."
"That's not the point," said the doctor,