The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black, "Follow him, Caliban. Manning,” she began. "I've done all I can to the portrait here. It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. It’s just upon my lunch-time.
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