"Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ***** The general office was an extension of the west wing of the McClintock bungalow. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out.
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