Well, what about it?" "I accept. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. 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. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjE4Ny4yNTIgLSAxNy0wNy0yMDI0IDIyOjUzOjQ3IC0gMTUxMTA5NDg2Mg==
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