If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. Shari’s eyes widened, “You mean it?” “I’m all yours, head to toe. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. "I am," replied Jonathan, following him, "and so," he added in an undertone, "are your captors. 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. ‘Hollow.
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