’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. ” He writhed. "I didn't awake you, because you seemed tired. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. They set about everyone—everyone. At last he could bear it no longer.
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