Clark South

Pale moonlight spilled through the window and over the wedding gifts that crowded the little room. "And this mirror, darling?" Mark Carter asked. "Who sent it?" A sudden flicker of worry flashed across Elaine Duchard's lovely face. She bit her lower lip nervously. Pretended to inspect a great silver punchbowl that stood on a nearby table. "Who did you say sent the mirror?"... more...