“Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. 9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. Also he is ugly. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. She interrupted.
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