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. I’ve told you that practically already. ” On the inside she felt her muscles loosen with relief. Their flitting hands were always touching. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. A paralyzing horror was upon her. I'll think no more about her. Find them at Remenham House—if you can. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict.
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