The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. At the head of the cart was placed the coffin. 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. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive.
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