Pamela: What made you wake so soon? Dreams?
Hannay: What do you mean, dreams?
Pamela: I've always been told murderers have terrible dreams.
Hannay: Oh, but only at first. Got over that a long time ago. When I first did a crime, I was quite squeamish about it. I was a most sensitive child.
Pamela: You surprise me.
Hannay: I used to wake up in the middle of the night screaming, thinking the police were after me. But one gets hardened.
Pamela: How did you start?
Hannay: Oh, quite a small way like most of us. Pilfering pennies from other childrens' lockers at school. Then a little pocket-picking and a spot of car-pinching, and smash-and-grab and sordid, plain burglary. Killed my first man when I was nineteen. [He yawns] In years to come, you'll be able to take your grandchildren to Mme. Tussaud's and point me out.
Pamela: Which section?
Hannay: Oh, it's early to say. I'm still young. But I'll be there, all right, in one department or another. Yes, you'll point me out and say: 'Chicks, if I were to tell you how matey I once was with that gentleman...'
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