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“假若不是的话，我甘愿--”格林维格先生的手杖又敲了一下。 'I'll answer for that boy's truth with my life!' said Mr. Brownlow, knocking the table. “我敢拿我的生命担保，这孩子很诚实。”布朗罗先生说着，敲了敲桌子。 'And I for his falsehood with my head!' rejoined Mr. Grimwig, knocking the table also. “我敢拿我的脑袋担保他会说谎。”格林维格先生应声说道，也敲了一下桌子。 'We shall see,' said Mr. Brownlow, checking his rising anger. “走着瞧好了。”布朗罗先生强压住腾起的怒气说道。 'We will,' replied Mr. Grimwig, with a provoking smile; 'we will.' “我们会看到的，”格林维格先生带着一种气人的微笑回答，“我们会看到的。” 
真好像是命中注定似的，就在这功夫，贝德温太太送进来一小包书，这是布朗罗先生当天早晨从那位已经在这部传记中露过面的书摊掌柜那里买的，她把书放在桌子上，便准备离开房间。 'Stop the boy, Mrs. Bedwin!' said Mr. Brownlow; 'there is something to go back.' “叫那送书的孩子等一下，贝德温太太。”布朗罗先生说，“有东西要他带回去。” 'He has gone, sir,' replied Mrs. Bedwin. “先生，他已经走了。”贝德温太太答道。 'Call after him,' said Mr. Brownlow; 'it's particular. He is a poor man, and they are not paid for. There are some books to be taken back, too.' “把他叫回来，”布朗罗先生说，“这人也真是的，他本身就不富裕，这些书都还没付钱呢。还有几本书也要送回去。” The street-door was opened. Oliver ran one way; and the girl ran another; and Mrs. Bedwin stood on the step and screamed for the boy; but there was no boy in sight. Oliver and the girl returned, in a breathless state, to report that there were no tidings of him. 大门打开了，奥立弗和女仆分两路追了出去，贝德温太太站在台阶上，高声呼唤着送书来的孩子，然而连人影也没见到一个。奥立弗和女仆气喘吁吁地回来了，回报说不知道他跑到哪儿去了。 
“啧啧，太遗憾了，”布朗罗先生多有感触，“这些书今天晚上能送回去就好了。” 'Send Oliver with them,' said Mr. Grimwig, with an ironical smile; 'he will be sure to deliver them safely, you know.' “叫奥立弗去送，”格林维格先生脸上挂着讽刺的微笑，说道，“你心中有数，他会平安送到的。” 'Yes; do let me take them, if you please, sir,' said Oliver. 'I'll run all the way, sir.' “是啊，先生，如果您同意的话，就让我去吧，”奥立弗请求道，“先生，我一路跑着去。” The old gentleman was just going to say that Oliver should not go out on any account; when a most malicious cough from Mr. Grimwig determined him that he should; and that, by his prompt discharge of the commission, he should prove to him the injustice of his suspicions: on this head at least: at once. 布朗罗先生正要开口，说奥立弗在这种情形下无论如何是不宜外出的，格林维格先生发出一声饱含恶意的咳嗽，迫使他决定让奥立弗跑一趟，由他迅速办完这档子事，自己就可以向格林维格先生证明，他的种种猜疑是不公正的--最低限度在这一点上--而且是立刻证明。 'You SHALL go, my dear,' said the old gentleman. 'The books are on a chair by my table. Fetch them down.' “你应该去，我亲爱的，”老绅士说道，“书在我桌子旁边的一把椅子上，去拿下来。” 
奥立弗见自己能派上用场，感到很高兴。他胳臂下夹着几本书匆匆走下楼来，帽子拿在手里，听候吩咐。 'You are to say,' said Mr. Brownlow, glancing steadily at Grimwig; 'you are to say that you have brought those books back; and that you have come to pay the four pound ten I owe him. This is a five-pound note, so you will have to bring me back, ten shillings change.' “你就说，”布朗罗先生目不转睛地盯着格林维格先生，“你是来还这些书的，并且把我欠他的四镑十先令交给他。这是一张五镑的钞票，你得把找的十个先令带回来。” 'I won't be ten minutes, sir,' said Oliver, eagerly. Having buttoned up the bank-note in his jacket pocket, and placed the books carefully under his arm, he made a respectful bow, and left the room. Mrs. Bedwin followed him to the street-door, giving him many directions about the nearest way, and the name of the bookseller, and the name of the street: all of which Oliver said he clearly understood. Having superadded many injunctions to be sure and not take cold, the old lady at length permitted him to depart. “要不了十分钟我就回来，先生。”奥立弗急不可待地说，他把那张钞票放进夹克口袋，扣上扣子，小心翼翼地把那几本书夹在胳膊下边，恭恭敬敬鞠了一躬，离开房间。贝德温太太随着他走到大门口，给了他不少嘱咐，最近的路怎么走啦，书摊老板的姓名啦，街道名称啦，奥立弗说他一切都清楚了。老太太又添上了许多训诫，路上要当心，别着凉，这才准许他离去。 'Bless his sweet face!' said the old lady, looking after him. 'I can't bear, somehow, to let him go out of my sight.' “看在他漂亮小脸蛋的分上，可别出事啊。”老太大目送他走到门外。“不管怎么说，我真不放心让他走到我看不见的地方去。” At this moment, Oliver looked gaily round, and nodded before he turned the corner. The old lady smilingly returned his salutation, and, closing the door, went back, to her own room. 这时，奥立弗高高兴兴地扭头看了一眼，转过街角之前他点了点头，老太太笑吟吟地还了个礼，便关上大门，回自己房间去了。 
“我看，最多二十分钟他就会回来，”布朗罗先生一边说，一边把表掏出来，放在桌子上。“到那个时候，天也快黑了。” 'Oh! you really expect him to come back, do you?' inquired Mr. Grimwig. “噢，你真以为他会回来，是不是？”格林维格先生问。 'Don't you?' asked Mr. Brownlow, smiling. “你不这样看？”布朗罗先生微笑着反问道。 The spirit of contradiction was strong in Mr. Grimwig's breast, at the moment; and it was rendered stronger by his friend's confident smile. 存心闹别扭的劲头在格林维格先生的胸中本来就难以按捺，看到朋友那副满有把握的笑容，他更来劲了。 'No,' he said, smiting the table with his fist, 'I do not. The boy has a new suit of clothes on his back, a set of valuable books under his arm, and a five-pound note in his pocket. He'll join his old friends the thieves, and laugh at you. If ever that boy returns to this house, sir, I'll eat my head.' “是的，”他用拳头捶了一下桌子，说道，“我不这样看，这孩子穿了一身新衣服，胳膊下边夹了一摞值钱的书，兜里又装着一张五镑的钞票。他会去投奔他那班盗贼老朋友的，反过来笑话你。先生，要是那孩子回到这房子里来了，我就把自己脑袋吃下去。” 
说罢这番话，他把椅子往桌旁拉了拉。两个朋友一言不发坐在那里，各自怀着心事，表放在他俩之间。 It is worthy of remark, as illustrating the importance we attach to our own judgments, and the pride with which we put forth our most rash and hasty conclusions, that, although Mr. Grimwig was not by any means a bad-hearted man, and though he would have been unfeignedly sorry to see his respected friend duped and deceived, he really did most earnestly and strongly hope at that moment, that Oliver Twist might not come back. 为了举例说明我们对自身作出的判断有多么看重，作出一些极为鲁莽轻率的结论时又是多么自负，有一点很值得注意，那就是，尽管格林维格先生绝对不是心术不正的坏蛋，看着自己尊敬的朋友上当受骗，他会真心诚意地感到难过，但是在这一时刻，他却由衷而强烈地希望奥立弗不要回来。 It grew so dark, that the figures on the dial-plate were scarcely discernible; but there the two old gentlemen continued to sit, in silence, with the watch between them. 天色已经很暗，连表上的数字也几乎辨认不出来了。两位老先生依然默不作声地坐在那儿，表放在他俩中间。 In the obscure parlour of a low public-house, in the filthiest part of Little Saffron Hill; a dark and gloomy den, where a flaring gas-light burnt all day in the winter-time; and where no ray of sun ever shone in the summer: there sat, brooding over a little pewter measure and a small glass, strongly impregnated with the smell of liquor, a man in a velveteen coat, drab shorts, half-boots and stockings, whom even by that dim light no experienced agent of the police would have hesitated to recognise as Mr. William Sikes. At his feet, sat a white-coated, red-eyed dog; who occupied himself, alternately, in winking at his master with both eyes at the same time; and in licking a large, fresh cut on one side of his mouth, which appeared to be the result of some recent conflict. 在小红花山最肮脏的地段，有一家下等酒馆，酒馆的店堂十分昏暗，这里冬天从早到晚点着一盏闪闪烁烁的煤气灯，就是在夏天，也没有一丝阳光照进这个阴森幽暗的巢穴。这家酒馆里坐着一个正在独斟独酌的汉子。他穿一身平绒外套，淡褐色马裤，半长统靴带套袜，守着面前的一个白锡小酒壶和一只小玻璃杯，浑身散发出浓烈的酒味。尽管灯光十分昏暗，一个有经验的警探还是会毫不迟疑地认出这就是威廉·赛克斯先生。一只白毛红眼狗伏在他的脚下，时而抬起头来，两只眼睛同时向主人眨巴眨巴，时而又舔舔嘴角上一条新的大口子，那显然是最近一次冲突落下的。 'Keep quiet, you warmint! Keep quiet!' said Mr. Sikes, suddenly breaking silence. Whether his meditations were so intense as to be disturbed by the dog's winking, or whether his feelings were so wrought upon by his reflections that they required all the relief derivable from kicking an unoffending animal to allay them, is matter for argument and consideration. Whatever was the cause, the effect was a kick and a curse, bestowed upon the dog simultaneously. “放老实点，你这狗东西！别出声！”赛克斯先生突然打破了沉默。不知是因为这样专注的思索却被狗的眼光打乱了呢，还是因情绪受到思维的推动，需要冲着一头无辜的畜生踢一脚，以便安神静气，这个问题还有待讨论。不管原因何在，结果是狗同时挨了一脚和一句臭骂。
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