A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Indeed I must. ” “The truth!” There was a brief but intense silence. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. . She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. "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.
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