All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. ” Sir John smiled and congratulated himself upon his insight. 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. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. ‘Me, I am tout à fait stupide. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble.
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