She mentally resolved to do her best to avoid personal encounters with him in that instant. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. As soon as the latter beheld him, she uttered a loud scream, and fainted. She looked away. “I’ve had most of the things I wanted,” said Ramage, in the stillness of the night. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death.
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