He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. " "I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile. 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. Will you unlock that door?” “Never!” he said. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered.
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