A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. Hope you ate light before you got here. He removed his cigarette from his lips and waved it gently in the air. It's only right that his people should know where he is and what has happened to him. Horrible!" "Poor soul! her senses are going again," said Mr. “Quite right,” she said. CHAPTER V.
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