He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. ” “You are marvellously like your brother,” Anna said, beaming upon him. " "Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper, laughing good-humouredly.
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