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. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. Her father was distinctly irascible, and disposed more than ever to hide away among the petrological things—the study was turned out.
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