The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. Murder had become nothing to her. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. “So is Mr. Many little things had contributed to that decision. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. Sheppard, so that if the blow had been stricken she must have received it. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. "Well, it's a good story.
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