Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. This mitigated her remorse enormously. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. Having now fairly got out of Newgate for the second time, with a heart throbbing with exultation, he hastened to make good his escape. Or appeared to do so.
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