Solomon Smith received something very like a rebuff. ‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause. 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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