"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. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “I’ve been through all that,” she went on, after a pause. ” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him.
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