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Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. And that confounded engagement!” “Gone!” They came upon a platform, and stood before her compartment. Suddenly, such a shout as has seldom smitten human ears rent the air. A bumper round, gentlemen. "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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