It might as well be Melusine herself. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. ” “It is very hard to explain,” he answered. ‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. 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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