Don’t take my word for it though. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. “Think how dumb we find ourselves and stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. "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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