Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. CHAPTER IV. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. " "Are you ready?" said Trenchard, striding towards the door. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand.
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