A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. F. Charcoal. She laughed. "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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