'Then, I think
they'll come to you yet.'
'Do you think they will?' cried Kit eagerly.
'Aye, I think they will,' returned the dwarf. 'Now, when they do,
let me know; d'ye hear? Let me know, and I'll give you something.
I want to do 'em a kindness, and I can't do 'em a kindness unless
I know where they are. You hear what I say?'
Kit might have returned some answer which would not have been
agreeable to his irascible questioner, if the boy from the wharf,
who had been skulking about the room in search of anything that
might have been left about by accident, had not happened to cry,
'Here's a bird! What's to be done with this?'
'Wring its neck,' rejoined Quilp.
'Oh no, don't do that,' said Kit, stepping forward. 'Give it to me.'
'Oh yes, I dare say,' cried the other boy. 'Come! You let the cage
alone, and let me wring its neck will you? He said I was to do it.
You let the cage alone will you.'
'Give it here, give it to me, you dogs,' roared Quilp. 'Fight for
it, you dogs, or I'll wring its neck myself!'
Without further persuasion, the two boys fell upon each other,
tooth and nail, while Quilp, holding up the cage in one hand, and
chopping the ground with his knife in an ecstasy, urged them on by
his taunts and cries to fight more fiercely.
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