He certainly bore inspection. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. org/license). Why don’t you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?” “You were with my wife,” Hill repeated sullenly. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. 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.
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