She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. A sinister thought edged in. Alban's to-night. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. Anna went out. Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. It is no good going into that.
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