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. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Melusine could not wish either to know how their kindness served only to emphasise the lack in her life ensuing from Gerald’s continued absence. ‘Melusine was making herself mistress of them when we met. ” “No fear!” “Then, as we succeed, it will begin to sidle back to us.
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