But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. " There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. Emile’s fist crashed into her temple and stars exploded in her vision. ” He took a quick step forward. Very fascinating, though, trying to analyse the impulse. 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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