I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. Rather a magniloquent term, perhaps, but what else am I to say? One of these is that the most absolutely selfish thing in the world is to give way to depression, to think of one’s troubles at all except of how to overcome them. 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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