Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. “I throw it out in passing,” he said. You haven’t had it on your mind all this time?” “I have rather. 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. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. ” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face.
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