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” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. ToC "At length this tragedy is at an end," said Mr. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. “This means a plunge. . His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. ” She smiled at him. 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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