“And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. 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. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. Yet, I suppose that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room. Never really thought about Him—people don’t. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them. He looked eager and flushed and troubled.
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