“Close your eyes. ” “Perhaps I don’t. 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 read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. But she did not bother her head very much about her relations with these sympathizers.
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