In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. Spurlock felt very well pleased with himself. She fled. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. I have always hated it. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her.
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