” “I have heard of the Fabians,” said Ann Veronica. Go up and get my daughter so we can have some homemade pie. You hear what I say, Quilt?" he added, looking at Jack. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. 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. “But that’s quite different,” replied Anna. I tried to have it out with him, but he wouldn’t have it out.
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