“I think,” he said, “that I am right. "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 is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. You must wait till supper's over. It jars with all my ideas. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place. The air was thick with feelings. They give themselves airs, but so it is. " "Is Mr.
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