" "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. . Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. I want a walk. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. He looked distant, irritated. 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. When anybody is natural, these days, we dub them queer.
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