He was angry. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. ’ Gerald gazed at her without expression. Fiercely defensive, as usual. ‘Help yourself, Hilary. 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. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane.
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