He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. If you can imagine it, I survived it. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. She let them fall and sped to the companion, where she stood for a moment, the moonlight giving her a celestial touch. He did not spend more time with her. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated.
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