still growling angrily. ‘What have you got to say for yourself, you withered old fence, eh?’
‘I was away from London, a week and more, my dear, on a plant,’ replied the Jew.
‘And what about the other fortnight?’ demanded Sikes. ‘What about the other fortnight that you’ve left me lying here, like a sick rat in his hole?’
‘I couldn’t help it, Bill. I can’t go into a long explanation before company; but I couldn’t help it, upon my honour.’
‘Upon your what?’ growled Sikes, with excessive disgust. ‘Here! Cut me off a piece of that pie, one of you boys, to take the taste of that out of my mouth, or it’ll choke me dead.’