She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. "I am, Charcoal. Noiselessly, his booted feet stepping with careful restraint, he started forward, signalling to Roding to follow. 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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