Edgeworth Bess, who passed for Sheppard's wife, was secured. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. McClintock would be on hand to tell her how and where to obtain this freedom. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. " "Do what you please with him," muttered Trenchard to Wild. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet.
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