This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. "Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. "She is in his power, and I am here, chained hand and foot, unable to assist her. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "Wretch!" cried Jack.
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