’ ‘Oh, do they?’ Gerald said, sudden wrath kindling. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. I’m okay. “How did you find me?” She asked. 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.
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