"My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. You do not need me to remind you of your success at Paris. 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. She even had books by H. Lucy followed her. "Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of revenge on those terms? No! But I'll have the secret out of you by other means. She would never again be lonely. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals.
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