She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. 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. Wood, would preclude the possibility of his remaining with his new friends as long as his inclinations prompted. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin.
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