’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. 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. ” Anna looked at them for a moment with a pitiful attempt at a smile. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. She turned with an effort. ” He commanded. ” He smiled at her. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. " "Not in the least," replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath the table; "there's my staff. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage.
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