Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. ‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote.
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