“You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. 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. You’re a good friend. Taking his new purchase under his arm, Jack proceeded to a small tavern in the same street, where, having ordered dinner, he went to a bed-room to attire himself. I tried to have it out with him, but he wouldn’t have it out. ” He paused. ” “Who cooked it all?” He asked. Only a book detective could dope this out.
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