Meet me. I can’t afford to get behind. ” She said. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. 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. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one. It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued.
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