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" "What's the matter?" remarked Kneebone, addressing Sheppard, who, as he caught the single but piercing eye of Jackson fixed upon him, started and trembled. “Does it hurt?” Michelle asked. . "It is", seplied Winifred; "have you brought any tidings of Thames Darrell!" "Troth have I!" replied Terence: "but, bless your angilic face, how did you contrive to guess that?" "Is he well?—is he safe?—is he coming back," cried the little girl, disregarding the question. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. 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. By Jasus! he's about to spake to us. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within.
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