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. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. He liked to be near me, he liked to be near any female, especially a young female. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. “Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing.
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