Spurling, formerly, it may be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at Queenhithe,—whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high prices, throughout the prison, which in noise and debauchery rivalled, if it did not surpass, the lowest tavern. But Jack did not heed them. “How have you been lately, Lucy? You’ve been such a stranger. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Probably something he had eaten.
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