What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. Come. Her head rose.
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