She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. 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. For a long time neither spoke again. "The devil you have! Then, perhaps, you can tell me when he intends to put his threat into execution?" "What threat?" asked Jackson. "A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of ammonia. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion.
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