” They talked for a while in somewhat dreamy fashion, Anna especially being more silent than usual. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. " "You don't say so!" exclaimed Shotbolt. "I suppose I must have been senseless for some time; for, on coming to myself, I found this gash in my head, and the ground covered with blood.
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