” “Yes. 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. "I am very happy to be of service to you. Wood scarcely knew where he was. She would never again be lonely. ’ ‘Quite right, Gerald,’ approved Lucilla.
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