” Shari brushed by her mother in the hallway, who grunted. To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. Perhaps because I don’t know. "When I am dead you will learn it. 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.
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