. ” “I suppose all men,” said Ann Veronica, in a tone of detached criticism, “get some such entanglement. 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. Old Newgate 302 X. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. ’ There was a silence. " "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere.
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