There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. None of the things they said and did were altogether new to Ann Veronica, but now she got them massed and alive, instead of by glimpses or in books—alive and articulate and insistent. No! I do not even know that he cares for me. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building. “I will have your true reason. 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.
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