While the carpenter irresolutely quitted the room, with a strong presentiment of ill upon his mind, a light quick step was heard descending the stairs, and before he could call out to prevent it, a man was admitted into the passage. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. You can tell me the rest another time. It was a dead calm. \"Hardwood floors. 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. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
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