She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about. " "Go with him to Tyburn,—never lose sight of him till the noose is tied. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would.
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