It's only about two minutes' walk from here." They strolled on side by side, Peter rather silent, and each of them vibrantly conscious of the other's nearness.

Suddenly Mallory pulled up and a quick exclamation broke from him as he pointed ahead.
"We're done! The bridge is gone!" Nan's eyes followed the direction of his hand.

Here the river ran more swiftly, and swollen by last nights storm of wind and rain, it had swept away the frail old footbridge which spanned it.

Only a few decayed sticks and rotten wooden stumps remained of what had once been known as the Lovers' Bridge--the trysting place of who shall say how many lovers in the days of its wooden prime?
Somehow a tinge of melancholy seemed to hang about the few scraps of wreckage.

How many times the little bridge must have tempted men and maidens to linger of a summer evening, dreaming the big dreams of youth--visions which the spreading wings of Time bear away into the Land of Lost Desires.