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. Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. She walked through the walls. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. But Jack was too nimble for him. ” “I am going to ask more than a favour,” she said slowly.
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