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. Rowland's purposes were, however, defeated in a manner as unexpected as appalling. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention.
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