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” He leaned back for his soup. The delay was only momentary. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it. "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. It is not you who runs the risk of going dinnerless to-morrow. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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