D'ye hear how the wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it ourselves presently. 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. Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men. ‘En tout cas, it is not reasonable that I could be at all in love with him.
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