” “Some little tiff?” “No; but I don’t think I shall see them. 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 was angry. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. His complexion was as blue as a sailor's jacket, and though Mr.
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