A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on.
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