’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. " She sent a covert glance toward the young man. . 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. . Her lips were dry and cracked. She became as The Tigress, a free thing.
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