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. It’s just upon my lunch-time. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. "So you did," replied the prize-fighter. . Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order.
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