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. The imbecile. ” She stopped abruptly, and turned about toward the front door. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room.
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