"Not my king's," returned Wood. I do not love you. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. 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.
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