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. Gerald lost his head. “Does Mr. "Don't you perceive, my dear Mrs. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. Kneebone said, just now. " "I dare say no such thing," interposed his better half, authoritatively; "remain where you are, Sir. ’ ‘Ah, that explains your surprise.
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