Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. At Anna’s words she seemed suddenly to stiffen. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. Martha had been careful to make no mention of Melusine, and did not reply to Mrs Ibstock’s enquiry about the fate of the little babe.
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