” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. Maggot held up a lantern, which she found in the shop. It reverberated in the silence. In a sense it alters nothing. 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. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals.
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