Mr. "But I am now coming to the point which most concerns you. ” Her hands fell to her side. 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. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. “I wouldn’t. ” He paused with a sense of ineptitude. A fever of shame ran through her being.
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