" "Heaven help her!" sighed Jack. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. There was no one stirring in the flats. Bodies were piled high in the streets, Sebastian went on rounds and would come back late at night, reporting horrors and robberies, death that came within hours, not days. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing.
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