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. In the interim, Jack advanced to the woollen-draper, and regarding him sternly, thus addressed him: "You have violated the laws of hospitality, Mr. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor. I may add that the family is well known to me. Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the subject.
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