“Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors.
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