Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Now, he must have folks somewhere. Manning?” said her aunt. But a woman’s life is all chance.
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