He resumed mastication.
"You'll go where I want you to go; and don't you think you can tell me where that is." In the silence that ensued the only sound was that of old Gaunt supping at his crusty-broth.

Then the rogue-girl went to the window and, taking the little cat on her breast, sat looking out into the rain.

Having finished his broth, old Gaunt got up, and, behind his son's back, he looked at his granddaughter and thought: 'Goin' to London! 'Twud be best for us all.

WE shudn' need to be movin', then.

Goin' to London!' But he felt desolate..