““Henry nodded. “May I ask you a question?” “Certainly, Your Grace.” He pointed at Jack. “Is he the Artful Dodger?” Mr. Dickens bent low. “I write fiction, Your Grace. The characters in my books do not really exist, but if they did”—he winked—“I do believe he would be the Artful Dodger.” “I knew it!” “And do you see that gentleman over there?” “Lord Claybourne?” Dickens nodded. “He would be Oliver.” “And what about Miss Frannie?” “She is every sweet girl who appears in the story.””
