Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. He walked out into the Champs Elysées and sat down. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. Would you like me to take one for you?\" \"Nah. . 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.
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