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“In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. I rarely set foot in London these days. Ten years of military life had taught him caution, but only strengthened a fearless zest for diving into any promising adventure with unalloyed enjoyment. “Married already,” he said, with his mouth full. 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 wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls. ” “Oh my goodness. "Heaven be praised she knows me at last.
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