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. She knew that the next time he caught her she would not be able to free herself. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check.
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