"What's to be done next?" cried Blueskin, returning to Rachel, who was standing with Edgeworth Bess near the door. Salvation. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. 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. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. Then he understood. Not a word passed between them.
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