“I will not have this slavery,” she said. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. She leaned a little towards him. "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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