"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. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. I will be very well without him. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. ” “Say that again, Lucy, so that the rest of them hear it.
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