At any rate she must see 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. I may as well think. But why this part of the plan now seemed to her quite unattractive was a question she did not care to examine too closely. " "Enough," returned Jackson, extending his hand; "and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for it likewise. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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