To-night we leave for Marseilles. ‘I only wish I might have won her confidence. “I might go home, I don’t know. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. 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. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men.
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