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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. ’ He turned to the goggling footman and thrust him towards the coach. That's part of the bargain. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. I wanted the magic of love.
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