“How did you know I haven’t been getting any sleep --?” “Oops, that’s my class. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. 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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