CHAPTER XIX. Thames Darrell MUST die. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. . ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. . They flash to and fro, they thrill us with expectancy. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends.
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