“Jean, open this fucking door!” “No. You open it.” “I can’t! You told me yourself you’ve got the special key!” “The Locke Lamora I used to know would spit on you,” said Jean. “Priest of the Crooked Warden. Garrista of the Gentlemen Bastards. Student of Father Chains. Brother to Calo, Galdo, and Bug! Tell me, what would Sabetha think of you?” “You … you bastard! Open this door!” “Look at yourself, Locke. You’re a fucking disgrace. Open it yourself.”
