" "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk. "Another moment, and it'll be too late. 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. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls.
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