Your husband could have told you that. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. “How fortunate I am, Miss Pellissier! All day I have been hoping that I might run across you. You are my wife, and I am determined to claim you. But Jack and his companion were already gone. 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.
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