They were terrible, horrible people. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. Lucy did not want to have to kill the mother, as she hated more than anything to kill women, no matter what their sins. And rather unscrupulous. The walls were bare, and painted in stone-colour; the floors, devoid of carpet; the beds, of hangings; the windows, of blinds; and, excepting in the thief-taker's own audience-chamber, there was not a chair or a table about the premises; the place of these conveniences being elsewhere supplied by benches, and deal-boards laid across joint-stools. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero.
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