" "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth. 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. She slid the dress off, naked underneath.
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