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Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. ” He found her bra beneath his pillow and handed it to her. “Would you stand it? I’m going to clear out. She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter One In the quiet of an autumn afternoon, the deserted mansion slept. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding.
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