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 are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. But this is all different. And Gerald— Melusine swallowed on an unaccountable lump in her throat. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. Her eyes quizzed the major. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. In spite of the tumultuous joy which agitated him, the bridegroom could not prevent the intrusion of some saddening thoughts, as he reflected upon the melancholy scene which he had so recently witnessed in the same place. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. “I want to make you happy, Lucy.
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