Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. 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. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers.
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