’ She inclined her head, looking up at him through her lashes, and passing a tongue lightly over her lips. Roused by Ben's warning, the carpenter looked up and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge looming through the darkness, and rendered indistinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from the windows of the lofty houses. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. Wood brought up. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. You're rich.
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