Оливер Твист

Chapter 50

           Crazywoodengalleriescommontothebacksofhalfadozenhouses,withholesfromwhichtolookupontheslimebeneath;windows,brokenandpatched,withpolesthrustout,onwhichtodrythelinenthatisneverthere;roomssosmall,sofilthy,soconfined,thattheairwouldseemtootaintedevenforthedirtandsqualorwhichtheyshelter;woodenchambersthrustingthemselvesoutabovethemud,andthreateningtofallintoitassomehavedone;dirt-besmearedwallsanddecayingfoundations;everyrepulsivelineamentofpoverty,everyloathsomeindicationoffilth,rot,andgarbage;alltheseornamentthebanksofFollyDitch.

           InJacob’sIsland,thewarehousesarerooflessandempty;thewallsarecrumblingdown;thewindowsarewindowsnomore;thedoorsarefallingintothestreets;thechimneysareblackened,buttheyyieldnosmoke.Thirtyorfortyyearsago,beforelossesandchancerysuitscameuponit,itwasathrivingplace;butnowitisadesolateislandindeed.Thehouseshavenoowners;theyarebrokenopen,andentereduponbythosewhohavethecourage;andtheretheylive,andtheretheydie.Theymusthavepowerfulmotivesforasecretresidence,orbereducedtoadestituteconditionindeed,whoseekarefugeinJacob’sIsland.

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