"Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. " "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. Good night!" "Well, if you won't be persuaded, and must have a boat, Owen," observed the landlord, "there's a waterman asleep on that bench will help you to as tidy a craft as any on the Thames. So he liked to go by a different train. Ennison?” “He spoke to me, thinking that I was you,” Anna answered.
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