It’s my choice, Lucy. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. A hansom stopped a little way off. But I'll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on condition—" "You may do as you please, master," interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; "but I wouldn't advise you to lay hands on me again. But the offences I have committed are venial in comparison with what I should commit were I to wed your father. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food.
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