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Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. "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 knew she was out there, he could feel it. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly.
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