\"Mom! You’re home early!” Michelle exclaimed. 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. He was painfully in earnest, too. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what one may not do amongst one’s own set. But a girl is soiled not only by evil but by the proximity of evil, and a reputation for rashness may do her as serious an injury as really reprehensible conduct. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. Michelle walked up the concrete porch steps, gesturing to Lucy to do the same.
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