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. "Tomorrow I shall have a visitor. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. In a little while he and she were talking quite easily and agreeably.
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