Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. He succeeded so well that they were almost in Montague Street before Anna stopped short. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother.
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