" "A promise to my mother?" said Winifred, unsuspiciously. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. 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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