" "The very point I aim at," said Darrell as he passed through the outlet. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. You cannot arrest yourself. “How shall I get my luggage out of the house?. " And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. "Choose, Jack. ‘Not in the open street. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him.
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