The String of Pearls (1850), p. 334

from now, have anything to eat or to drink that you may please to name. Speak, what is it to be?"
"Well," he said, "that is kind indeed. But I can do without food further than I have here, for I have hit upon a mode of making cakes that please me. Nevertheless, if you can bring me a bottle of brandy, in order that I may slightly qualify the water that I drink, I shall be obliged to you."
"You shall have it; and now I hope you will be convinced of the sincerity of my desire to be of service to you."
"But my liberty, madam, my liberty. That is the grand thing after all that I must ever pant for."
"True, and that is what you shall have at my hands. In the course of two, or it may be three days, I shall have perfected some arrangements which will
enable me to throw open your prison for you, and then—"
"Then what?"
"May I hope that you will not think so harshly of me as you have done?"
"Certainly not."
"Then I shall be repaid for all I do. You must believe me to be the victim of the most cruel circumstances, of which some day you may be informed. At
present, to do so, would only be to involve both you and myself in one common destruction."
"Then don't mention it."
"I will not. But beware of one thing."
"What is that?"
"Simply this, that any attempts upon your own part to escape from here previous to the time when I shall have completed my arrangements to set you free,
will not only derange all that I am planning for you, but end in your utter destruction; for he who has forced me into my present cruel situation will not for
one moment hesitate at the murder of us both; so if you wish to be free in a few days you will try nothing, but if on the contrary you wish to destroy
both yourself and me, you will make some attempts to rescue yourself from here."
Mrs. Lovett waited rather anxiously for his answer to this speech.
"I dare say you are right," he said at length.
"You may be assured I am."
"Then I consent."
Mrs. Lovett drew a long breath of relief, as she muttered to herself—
"It will do—I have him in the toils; and come what may, I am free from the torturing thought that he may achieve something that may have the effect
of delivering me up to the hands of justice. When I am gone, he may remain where he is, and rot for all I care.—You have done wisely," she said aloud,
"and if anything could more powerfully than another incite me to the greatest exertions to liberate you, it would be the handsome manner in which you have placed confidence in me."
"Oh, don't mention it."
Again there was that tone of sarcasm about the cook's voice, which created a doubt in the mind of Mrs. Lovett if, after all, he was not merely playing with her, and in his heart utterly disregarding all that she said to him. It is quite questionable if this doubt was not in its bitterness worse than the former anxieties that had preyed upon the mind of the lady; but she found she could do nothing to put an end to it, so she merely said—
"Well, I feel much happier now; so I will go at once and get you the brandy that you ask for. I hope he will drink it freely—it will aid him in drowning
reflection."
"Thank you," said the cook, "I shall expect it with impatience. Confound her, she can't very well put anything queer in the brandy. I will take care to taste a very small portion of it first; for Sir Richard Blunt has cautioned me particularly to be careful of poison."
"I am going," said Mrs. Lovett.