’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. It was a different world. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. 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 hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest. “I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat.
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