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. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. . This man and he were alike, and about the same age. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine.
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