It’s an emerald. "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. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. . She was supposed to be lifeless; but she survived the accident, though she never regained her strength. ” “I know. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. Anna was singing as she used to sing.
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