oceeded from the same person.

'Any news?' inquired Fagin.

'Great.'

'And--and--good?' asked Fagin, hesitating as though he feared to vex
the other man by being too sanguine.

'Not bad, any way,' replied Monks with a smile. 'I have been prompt
enough this time. Let me have a word with you.'

The girl drew closer to the table, and made no offer to leave the room,
although she could see that Monks was pointing to her. The Jew:
perhaps fearing she might say something aloud about the money, if he
endeavoured to get rid of her: pointed upward, and took Monks out of
the room.

'Not that infernal hole we were in before,' she could hear the man say
as they went upstairs. Fagin laughed; and making some reply which did
not reach her, seemed, by the creaking of the boards, to lead his
companion to the second story.

Before the sound of their footsteps had ceased to echo through the
house, the girl had slipped off her shoes; and drawing her gown loosely
over her head, and muffling her arms in it, stood at the door,
listening with breathless interest. The moment the noise ceased, she
glided from the room; ascended the stairs with incredible softness and
silence; and was lost in the gloom above.

The room remained deserted for a quarter of an hour or more; the girl
glided back with the same unearthly tread; and, immediately afterwards,
the two men were heard descending. Monks went at once into the street;
and the Jew crawled upstairs again for the money. When he returned,
the girl was adjusting her shawl and bonnet, as if preparing to be gone.

'Why, Nance!' exclaimed the Jew, starting back as he put down the
candle, 'how pale you are!'

'Pale!' echoed the girl, shading her eyes with her hands, as if to look
steadily at him.

'Quite horrible. What have you been doing to yourself?'

'Nothing that I know of, except sitting in this close place for I don't
know how long and all,' replied the girl carelessly. 'Come! Let me get
back; that's a dear.'

With a sigh for every piece of money, Fagin told the amount into her
hand. They parted without more conversation, merely interchanging a
'good-night.'

When the girl got into the open street, she sat down upon a doorstep;
and seemed, for a few moments, wholly bewildered and unable to pursue
her way. Suddenly she arose; and hurrying on, in a direction quite
opposite to that in which Sikes was awaiting her returned, quickened
her pace, until it gradually resolved