\" She handed the ticket seller, a boy that looked to be all of eighteen years old, murder money that she had stolen from Dawn Plote's dead son, five dollars. "Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that. Through that she had to go. Wood started to his feet. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. ’ He thought Roding gave him an odd look, but his next question was already in his head.
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