Murder at Swann's Lake

by Sally Spencer

  The bride and her father swept past the Woodends’ pew. “She’s been practising this bit for days,” Joan Woodend said.

  “She must have been.”

  “And just look at her now. She’s positively glidin’. If you didn’t know, you’d never guess that she was blind, would you?”

  “No,” Woodend agreed. “No, you wouldn’t.”