It got on my nerves—the women I saw. "Mother!" cried Jack, springing towards her. For awhile he watched the revolving light on Copeley's. "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. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free.
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