‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. 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. ” “Oh, I’m not trying to help it,” said Ann Veronica. ” Ennison laughed softly.
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