They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. But, say we're friends. " "Give you the best I have in either case," replied Figg. She had killed the McCloskeys after they had witnessed her making a kill. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century.
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