\" 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. \" Cathy beamed. Down we come!" he exclaimed, letting go the plank, which fell with a crash, and leaping after Sheppard, who had rolled off the frame. She would have just to keep the fifteen pounds until she could make it twenty. " The tone was neutral. Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault.
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