"I steal things." "You do what?" She wanted to smile at the incredulous tone. "Is stealing worse than killing? I thought it was all bad." "You just surprised me." He didn't flinch at her candid assessment of what he did, but it bothered him--and people's opinions didn't bother him. He had his own moral code, a code of strict honor. It shouldn't matter what she said . . . but it did. She wasn't accusing or even judgmental, just matter-of-fact and perhaps that was what got under his skin. That she just accepted what he was. One-dimensional, as if that was he was. And all he would ever be."