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"Enough," said the widow, gratefully. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. 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. ’
‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. A
disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s
table, was only too manifestly sketching her. ”
Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the
slightest flush of colour.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 02:29:01