The inside was empty except for an infant, which from a distance looked utterly normal. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. "I am very wicked," she said.
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