Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. Sheppard despairingly. "From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box. "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. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece. “Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone.
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