Mrs. Lovett's hand curled tighter around a wad of lace. She sighed loudly, trying to rid herself of the grogginess she felt every morning, but somehow this morning was different. While reaching up to pull the hair back from her face, she discovered a large, painful lump on the back of her head. "How did…" she sat up suddenly. Canary yellow strips of color streaked up and down the wallpaper. This was not her home, but she knew where she was; Judge Turpin's house.

She ran to the door, nearly tripping on the hem of her dress. She furiously tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. "Damn Turpin!" she muttered. Mrs. Lovett stumbled over to the window, but to her dismay it was the third story, and there wasn't much of a ledge to climb out onto. She searched desperately for something small to pick the lock. While rummaging through a small jewelry chest, her hand brushed against what felt like a hair pin. She pulled it out victoriously. 'Perfect,' she whispered.

Mrs. Lovett jammed it into the lock. "Workdammit!" she said under her breath. She wiped away the sweat from her hands on the bedspread, then gripped the doorknob and twisted it. She jumped as the handle slowly began to turn. The door opened to reveal Judge Turpin.

He loomed over her, his face stern. She backed away slowly. "What have you done with Mr. Todd?" she demanded, still shaking. The Judge's sinister smile disappeared.

"He is away, safe, so you needn't worry. You'll be with him soon enough." He came closer, closer, until Mrs. Lovett's back was pressed to the window. She felt the algid glass send chills from the nape of her neck all the way down her spine. He moved his hand towards her face, and closed it around a tress of her red hair. She didn't move.

"Yes…" he mumbled, "The Beadle has good taste indeed." He let go of her hair. "Where is he?" Mrs. Lovett asked. Judge Turpin frowned and moved to look out the window. "If you really must know, he is residing in the penitentiary on Carnaby Street."

"What has he done to deserve this?" she said, stifling her choler. A baleful expression fell across his face as he lifted a yellow rose out of the porcelain vase on the windowsill. He closed his eyes as he let the divine scent envelope his nostrils. Mrs. Lovett felt a lump in her throat begin to form. "Please," she said weakly. His eyes shifted to hers.

"His behavior last evening was execrable. I thought it was only appropriate to punish him for the atrocities he exhibited." he replied. Mrs. Lovett cleared her throat.

"When is he to be released?" she asked. The corners of the Judge's mouth crept up slowly. "Once you live up to your end of the bargain." he said, a pernicious tone lingering in his deep voice. Mrs. Lovett walked up to him. His wide shoulders met her at eye level, forcing her to gaze up at the face she had come to dread.

"And just what bargain might that be?" she asked suspiciously. Judge Turpin strolled to the opposite end of the room as he spoke. "Perhaps you are aware of my pursuance of a bride. It simply isn't becoming for a man of my stature to be without a wife, and latterly my situation has been most unfulfilling." Mrs. Lovett felt the tears accumulating in both her eyes. She squeezed them shut, forcing several droplets to stream down her ivory cheeks. Judge Turpin failed to notice, or if he did he paid no attention.

"So, my dear, this is what I have concluded. If you might accept my offer, Mr. Todd will be released from jail, but banished from London from this day forth. If you decline my offer, Mr. Todd will remain in jail, and you will stay the eligible woman you are. The choice is yours to make." He waited for a reply, but Mrs. Lovett's saliva was so thick with her emotion she could not speak. Her lower lip trembled quietly as the Judge sauntered away. He stopped at the door. "Let me know when you have decided." He sent a cold rush of air to her face by shutting the door, burning her face where the tears were.