" "I'll tell you what. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. How can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure. “Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise.
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