"A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in his pocket. She reflected before answering. “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. Why doesn’t she marry? Plenty of money under her father’s will. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. And of course! She had a brilliant idea. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek.
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