"I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. By this time, Jonathan and the vast mob attending him, had come up, and the place was rendered almost as light as day by the links. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. She wanted to know. And you will.
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