Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. But in the early days of her abduction, she did not allow him to touch her. “I wish he had,” she said. It would seem, from the attention which he evidently bestowed upon the hidden and complex machinery of the grand system of villany at work around him, that his chief object in taking up his quarters in the Mint, must have been to obtain some private information respecting the habits and practices of its inhabitants, to be turned to account hereafter. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. He had no ideas about daughters. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. They are their mother’s sons.
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