She rose to the fire to stoke it. "If we take him, I don't mind giving you a share—say a fourth—provided you lend a helping hand. \" She handed the ticket seller, a boy that looked to be all of eighteen years old, murder money that she had stolen from Dawn Plote's dead son, five dollars. ‘All this gadding about. One of those hanging moments ensued— hypnotic. It surprised her she hadn’t thought of it before! She tried to explain that she was going to pay him forty pounds without fail next week. Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. Expiation. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face.
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