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. If you don’t like it, I won’t be mad, I promise. “I wonder,” he said, “if women do know things by instinct? I have my doubts about feminine instinct. "No, please! It is good luck for a dog to enter your house. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done.
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