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I don’t understand the workings of a gentleman’s mind. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled. 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 did not know Mr. Anna looked at her, startled. Her features were still slightly marked by the disorder alluded to in the description of her as a child,—but that was the only drawback to her beauty. Mr. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. ” Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill before Anna.
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