’ He bowed. 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. " After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. ” Another differed. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. ’ ‘I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ Gerald said decidedly, a frown creasing his brow. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement. Don’t take my word for it though.
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