Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. "Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. The Ragged Edge. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. ‘In fact, I’ve never met anyone who goaded me to so much violence.
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