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There stood John and Mr. 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. Instantly seizing it, the young man placed it in the carriage, shut the door, and commanded his servants to drive off. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room.
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