He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. She had killed him. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. " Without waiting for a reply, but darting a malevolent look at the prisoner, he quitted the cell, the door of which was instantly double-locked and bolted. The moviegoers exited the cinema in the customary daze that resulted from two hours of sensory bombardment.
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