’ Sheer exasperation made Gerald release her as he broke into reluctant laughter. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. She was watching him intently. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. Above was a spacious hall, connected with it by a flight of stone steps, at the further end of which stood an immense grated door, called in the slang of the place "The Jigger," through the bars of which the felons in the upper wards were allowed to converse with their friends, or if they wished to enter the room, or join the revellers below, they were at liberty to do so, on payment of a small fine. He dug about in his mind for a term to fit her, and he came upon the word new.
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