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. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. Deep silences came between them. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. Perhaps I deceived you about it. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. Leave me behind: I'm not afraid.
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