The momentary alarm over, he threw a piece of-wash leather over a bureau, so as to deaden the sound, and instantly broke it open with a small crowbar. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. It was a brief solitude, however. “To be an actress,” he said, “you require a special and peculiar temperament. " "And what is that?" "I have relatives not far from Hartford. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged.
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