Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. I shall never come back. You must be lonely here with only a few men friends. 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. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world.
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