Respectable was flat beer compared to that. She’d learned to keep accounts, working out a fair cut.
She missed the best part-jingling the coins out on the cobbles, squatting down with her mates, and counting out the take. Slithering away with a purse, wise and secret. Missed the cool, stealthy slide of fingers into a coat. Papa used to say that, clouting her on the side of the head a bit to let her know who he was talking about. ONCE YOU GET A TASTE FOR THIEVERY, YOU never lose it.
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