“Have you told anybody else?” Lucy asked. But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. "By the powers!" he added, turning his lantern full upon the face of the captive, "he's a nice gennteel-lookin' kiddy, I must say. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Now what I want you to feel is this. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. I am tired, and I want to be alone.
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