A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. “There are policemen—and buses. " "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. It was not for a week or a month.
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