“John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. 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. . . ‘Come on, Hilary.
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