Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. " "That's impossible," replied Jack. 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. I didn't expect you home before that hour, Sir.
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