" "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. You can have no shecrets from me. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place. Hill lost a little of his truculency.
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