‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. What more was to be done? Frith’s investigations had proved fruitful, and the man was now keeping an eye on Valade. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about. She reflected before answering. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. ” “Maybe I should stay away.
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