He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. As he anticipated, he was here comparatively screened from the fury of the wind; and when he gazed upon the roaring fall beneath him, visible through the darkness in a glistening sheet of foam, his heart overflowed with gratitude for his providential deliverance. The second look told me I was wrong. “There’s morbid beauty,” said Ann Veronica. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty.
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