This at once thrilled her and worried her. “If I was the world I think I should have put down a crimson carpet, and asked you to say what you wanted, and generally walk over me. 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. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey.
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