She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. "Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. ” Lucy gestured to the rough plywood floor. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. 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. “You underestimate your own sickness, and the ill humors that struck you may strike again.
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