Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts. Yes—as he would have liked. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. Certainly your major—’ ‘Ah, now that’s just it, missie. 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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