. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. .
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