The evenings were dulcet and soft. " "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. ” “I had to,” she repeated. It came to Ann Veronica that life was wonderful beyond measure. 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. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. "To go a little further. "I'm afraid we'll have to dig into his trunk," he said.
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