\" 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. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH THOUGHTS IN PRISON Part 1 The first night in prison she found it impossible to sleep. ‘I can manage now.
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