” John greeted him. 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. Your own safety—the child's safety—depends upon your candour. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future.
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