Certainly I would not murder monsieur le major, even that he has made a threat to beat me. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Sheila was often a terror to her husband Mark, who seemed afraid of her.
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