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. "Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps, I may never have another opportunity. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald.
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