He did not think of her as a killer, he could barely conceive it. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress. Howard Spurlock. Just a formal marriage. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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