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. His brows drew a little nearer together. He had been very easy or she had been very lucky. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. . He—” “Here they are!” said Ann Veronica as the bell sounded.
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