It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. "I could not make him understand. The Ragged Edge. “Get you a cold one?” “No thanks. 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. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. I could not have spoken to her. Not afraid of me, either.
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