"At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. "Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. . Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. "There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head. ” She said as she rested her head against his chest, eyes unfocused on the fading sky.
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