Alban's to-night. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. The Times slipped from his fingers. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way.
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