He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. 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. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes.
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