Sheila was often a terror to her husband Mark, who seemed afraid of her. “After all, it’s our honeymoon. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. We just want to ask her a few questions about an old murder case.
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