Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. Her mind went on generalizing. She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. Sheppard. Everything was very neat; it had evidently been straightened up and kept for her.
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