” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. 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. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions.
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