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. " "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. Words were given with their original meaning, without their ramifications. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters. She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. He just walked in a few minutes ago. ‘How do you do? I am so happy to meet you. You had better go to bed. Horrible details recurred to her.
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