’ The lady sighed and spread her hands. "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. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. ” He admonished. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling.
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