"Oh, a friend of my harsh days," Sweeney Todd said with a crooked smile, turning to the new visitor. His barber shop was located directly above Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, in a gloomy old house on Fleet Street. It was easy to find him, considering that lately he had regained the fame that he once had under the name of Benjamin Barker.

The guest's face was painfully familiar. She was a pleasant woman, a friend of bright memory. Like him, she was once convicted for no reason, the victim of a false denunciation. Now she stood before him like a pure ray of light in this dark, gloomy London, as if fate itself had brought her to this place.

"Did you come for a haircut?" Sweeney asked with a hint of irony in his voice, his almost friendly smile a rarity, even for Mrs. Lovett. "I have long dreamed of having you as a client."His eyes were shining, full of dark humor and a hidden fire of revenge that never faded in his soul.

He motioned for her to sit down in an armchair, his hands, confident and deft, were already ready to work. His mind was filled with memories of the past, of how they had both been victims of injustice. But now, in this bleak and blood-soaked place, they could both find solace, however temporary.

Sweeney Todd knew that his trade was not just cutting and shaving; it was an act of retribution, every stroke of the razor was like a blow to those who had ruined his life. And now, when she, his old friend, stood in front of him, he felt that their destinies were once again intertwined in this terrible dance of revenge and blood.

"Sit down, dear, and let me make you even more beautiful," he said, holding back a dark grin. "There's so little justice in this world, but at least here, in my chair, you can feel special."