” Lucy commented as the mud was smoothed around the grave site. She directed the orchestra to tune again. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. The woman shrugged her shoulders. "I shan't sleep a wink while Jack Sheppard's in the house. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls.
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