The boat rocked violently with the struggle. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks.
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