"By means of the watchman who had the charge of me," replied Thames. 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. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. Come and see him, Lucia.
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