\" 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. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. The chance it is the same for both. Diane Vorsack was a disaster waiting for a place to happen, with a heartily established dislike for the Beck clan.
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