” An awkward moment of silence followed. Her old nurse’s hands returned the pressure. 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 looked up at him quickly. Mon cher major, Melusine began. She turned out the electric light and gained the hall.
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