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 only laughed. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. Thought she was a nun at first. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme.
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