The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. 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. ” “I will think of it,” she repeated. “Get you a cold one?” “No thanks. It's only a gentleman come to offer you his hand. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. "You've won your wager.
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