John knew better. She had never been so happy to vomit. 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. . On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis.
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