"When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Katy oozed money from every pore of her being. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared.
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