“I was very foolish to have been deceived even for a moment. 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 how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. His fears were allayed once he checked the answering machine to hear their analog voices reporting their arrival at the Colorado airport.
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