He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. " "By the way, did you read those stories?" "Yes. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did.
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