"How, Sir?" "Except by adoption. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. "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. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest.
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