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. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. “Let your friends act for you. “And let us have a talk about this—some other time. She recovered herself, however, with amazing facility. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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