There are a thousand questions I'd like to ask you, but I sha'n't ask them. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks.
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