If a person doesn't have a shilling in his pocket and has holes in his cuffs, others will think as if he has a hole in his heart too.
—William Thackeray
Old Fagin hunched his back like a mouse hesitating whether to creep out of its hole.
But under Arthur's cold and piercing gaze, this old crow finally succumbed.
He moved to take the cloth bag resting on the corner of the counter. The bag, small and seemingly worthless, was held in his trembling hands as if it were an explosive ready to detonate.
Fagin's Adam's apple bobbed twice, and he swallowed dry spit.
"I didn't intend to take it..." Fagin mumbled, as if talking to himself or confessing to Arthur, "But she... she said it was a matter of credit... just a box."
"Then take out the 'just a box'," Arthur replied lightly, his tone devoid of accusation but it hit Old Fagin's ears harder than a whip, making his entire back burn.
