" "Oh, Jack!" cried his mother, falling upon his neck, and covering him with kisses. He would require things of her, and she would be passionately concerned to meet his requirements. "Can I help you, Jack?" asked Thames, taking up a plane. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. 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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