“Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. I know he is dead. There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. ’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. “Look here,” he said, protruding his eyes; “why get anything to do at all just yet? Why, if you must be free, why not do the sensible thing? Make yourself worth a decent freedom. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire. I am no one, Gérard. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home.
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