It was dry, as if she had powdered it. ” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose. "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. No doubt there’s some little mistake. In a few minutes, an appalling change was perceptible.
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