“What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. It's gin—a liquor you used to like.
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