This helped to restore Ann Veronica’s self-command. "To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. "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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