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Oliver Twist



Oliver Twist
by Charles Dickens

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4 · Chapter 5 · Chapter 6 · Chapter 7 · Chapter 8 · Chapter 9 · Chapter 10 · Chapter 11 · Chapter 12 · Chapter 13 · Chapter 14 · Chapter 15 · Chapter 16 · Chapter 17 · Chapter 18 · Chapter 19 · Chapter 20 · Chapter 21 · Chapter 22 · Chapter 23 · Chapter 24 · Chapter 25 · Chapter 26 · Chapter 27 · Chapter 28 · Chapter 29 · Chapter 30 · Chapter 31 · Chapter 32 · Chapter 33 · Chapter 34 · Chapter 35 · Chapter 36 · Chapter 37 · Chapter 38 · Chapter 39 · Chapter 40 · Chapter 41 · Chapter 42 · Chapter 43 · Chapter 44 · Chapter 45 · Chapter 46 · Chapter 47 · Chapter 48 · Chapter 49 · Chapter 50 · Chapter 51 · Chapter 52 · Chapter 53







Chapter 36 of Oliver Twist  
 
IS A VERY SHORT ONE, AND MAY APPEAR OF NO GREAT IMPORTANCE IN ITS PLACE, BUT IT SHOULD BE READ NOTWITHSTANDING, AS A SEQUEL TO THE LAST, AND A KEY TO ONE THAT WILL FOLLOW WHEN ITS TIME ARRIVES 
 
'And so you are resolved to be my travelling companion this 
morning; eh?' said the doctor, as Harry Maylie joined him and 
Oliver at the breakfast-table.  'Why, you are not in the same 
mind or intention two half-hours together!' 
 
'You will tell me a different tale one of these days,' said 
Harry, colouring without any perceptible reason. 
 
'I hope I may have good cause to do so,' replied Mr. Losberne; 
'though I confess I don't think I shall.  But yesterday morning 
you had made up your mind, in a great hurry, to stay here, and to 
accompany your mother, like a dutiful son, to the sea-side. 
Before noon, you announce that you are going to do me the honour 
of accompanying me as far as I go, on your road to London.  And 
at night, you urge me, with great mystery, to start before the 
ladies are stirring; the consequence of which is, that young 
Oliver here is pinned down to his breakfast when he ought to be 
ranging the meadows after botanical phenomena of all kinds. Too 
bad, isn't it, Oliver?' 
 
'I should have been very sorry not to have been at home when you 
and Mr. Maylie went away, sir,' rejoined Oliver. 
 
'That's a fine fellow,' said the doctor; 'you shall come and see 
me when you return.  But, to speak seriously, Harry; has any 
communication from the great nobs produced this sudden anxiety on 
your part to be gone?' 
 
'The great nobs,' replied Harry, 'under which designation, I 
presume, you include my most stately uncle, have not communicated 
with me at all, since I have been here; nor, at this time of the 
year, is it likely that anything would occur to render necessary 
my immediate attendance among them.' 
 
'Well,' said the doctor, 'you are a queer fellow.  But of course 
they will get you into parliament at the election before 
Christmas, and these sudden shiftings and changes are no bad 
preparation for political life.  There's something in that.  Good 
training is always desirable, whether the race be for place, cup, 
or sweepstakes.' 
 
Harry Maylie looked as if he could have followed up this short 
dialogue by one or two remarks that would have staggered the 
doctor not a little; but he contented himself with saying, 'We 
shall see,' and pursued the subject no farther.  The post-chaise 
drove up to the door shortly afterwards; and Giles coming in for 
the luggage, the good doctor bustled out, to see it packed. 
 
'Oliver,' said Harry Maylie, in a low voice, 'let me speak a word 
with you.' 
 
Oliver walked into the window-recess to which Mr. Maylie beckoned 
him; much surprised at the mixture of sadness and boisterous 
spirits, which his whole behaviour displayed. 
 
'You can write well now?' said Harry, laying his hand upon his 
arm. 
 
'I hope so, sir,' replied Oliver. 
 
'I shall not be at home again, perhaps for some time; I wish you 
would write to me--say once a fort-night:  every alternate 
Monday: to the General Post Office in London.  Will you?' 
 
'Oh! certainly, sir; I shall be proud to do it,' exclaimed 
Oliver, greatly delighted with the commission. 
 
'I should like to know how--how my mother and Miss Maylie are,' 
said the young man; 'and you can fill up a sheet by telling me 
what walks you take, and what you talk about, and whether 
she--they, I mean--seem happy and quite well. You understand me?' 
 
'Oh! quite, sir, quite,' replied Oliver. 
 
'I would rather you did not mention it to them,' said Harry, 
hurrying over his words; 'because it might make my mother anxious 
to write to me oftener, and it is a trouble and worry to her. 
Let it be a secret between you and me; and mind you tell me 
everything!  I depend upon you.' 
 
Oliver, quite elated and honoured by a sense of his importance, 
faithfully promised to be secret and explicit in his 
communications.  Mr. Maylie took leave of him, with many 
assurances of his regard and protection. 
 
The doctor was in the chaise; Giles (who, it had been arranged, 
should be left behind) held the door open in his hand; and the 
women-servants were in the garden, looking on.  Harry cast one 
slight glance at the latticed window, and jumped into the 
carriage. 
 
'Drive on!' he cried, 'hard, fast, full gallop!  Nothing short of 
flying will keep pace with me, to-day.' 
 
'Halloa!' cried the doctor, letting down the front glass in a 
great hurry, and shouting to the postillion; 'something very 
short of flying will keep pace with _me_.  Do you hear?' 
 
Jingling and clattering, till distance rendered its noise 
inaudible, and its rapid progress only perceptible to the eye, 
the vehicle wound its way along the road, almost hidden in a 
cloud of dust: now wholly disappearing, and now becoming visible 
again, as intervening objects, or the intricacies of the way, 
permitted.  It was not until even the dusty cloud was no longer 
to be seen, that the gazers dispersed. 
 
And there was one looker-on, who remained with eyes fixed upon 
the spot where the carriage had disappeared, long after it was 
many miles away; for, behind the white curtain which had shrouded 
her from view when Harry raised his eyes towards the window, sat 
Rose herself. 
 
'He seems in high spirits and happy,' she said, at length. 'I 
feared for a time he might be otherwise.  I was mistaken.  I am 
very, very glad.' 
 
Tears are signs of gladness as well as grief; but those which 
coursed down Rose's face, as she sat pensively at the window, 
still gazing in the same direction, seemed to tell more of sorrow 
than of joy.



Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4 · Chapter 5 · Chapter 6 · Chapter 7 · Chapter 8 · Chapter 9 · Chapter 10 · Chapter 11 · Chapter 12 · Chapter 13 · Chapter 14 · Chapter 15 · Chapter 16 · Chapter 17 · Chapter 18 · Chapter 19 · Chapter 20 · Chapter 21 · Chapter 22 · Chapter 23 · Chapter 24 · Chapter 25 · Chapter 26 · Chapter 27 · Chapter 28 · Chapter 29 · Chapter 30 · Chapter 31 · Chapter 32 · Chapter 33 · Chapter 34 · Chapter 35 · Chapter 36 · Chapter 37 · Chapter 38 · Chapter 39 · Chapter 40 · Chapter 41 · Chapter 42 · Chapter 43 · Chapter 44 · Chapter 45 · Chapter 46 · Chapter 47 · Chapter 48 · Chapter 49 · Chapter 50 · Chapter 51 · Chapter 52 · Chapter 53
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