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. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. F.
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