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. The two young fools laughed until they cried. The address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space. Sir John hesitated. And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it. She knew it was to be a long night, and her stomach turned with the knowledge that Cathy and Larry Beck would be waiting to pick her up after the questioning, which meant they would be up all night despite the fact they both had jobs to go to in the morning. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since.
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