’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. I am gambling on his intuition. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired.
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