The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. Sheppard, who had been stricken down by the blow that prostrated her assailant, looked up, she perceived Jonathan Wild kneeling beside the body of Blueskin. Despite her busy work schedule, Sheila had always been a social person, a talker, a joiner of neighborhood groups, a town council member, a PTA worker, and a thrower of neighborhood coffee klatches. “Sir John is not at all that sort. She had never said anything so horrible to anyone in her life.
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