'Mrs. "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. Drummond patted him on the shoulder. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. He slackened his pace as he reached the flat. I knew where I would go next: Florence. Her father was distinctly irascible, and disposed more than ever to hide away among the petrological things—the study was turned out. She felt herself shaking again.
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