Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. ’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. 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. They had always gone without because of their secret lifestyle. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior.
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