"Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. 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. I was bawling so hard that the Nurse took pity on me and slipped me two Children’s Tylenol.
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