" "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. She owed the nun a great deal, including her command of English, for no one else thought to ensure she could speak her mother tongue. With some difficulty, they managed to negotiate the passage with their burden and carry him out into the library. "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. He had scarcely entered the arch, when the indraught was so violent, and the noise of the wind so dreadful and astounding, that he almost determined to relinquish the undertaking. Yes, there was someone there. “One is always playing the surgeon, one kills always the thing one loves best. I'm heading for bed. The gong will go at seven-thirty.
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