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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. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. It was Celeste’s idea. “I can survive on my own. The young man had knocked over the siphon. Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. . He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. He found himself thinking up all the psychology which he had ever read. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there.
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