“I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. \" 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. Don’t be frightened, dear. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper.
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