” But after that neither ideas nor phrases had come and she had fallen thinking of the events of the day. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me.
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