“Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. It was explosive and gratifying. She’s got a great imagination. On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed it expedient to do so.
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