The chief scene of these disgusting orgies,—the cellar, just referred to,—was a large low-roofed vault, about four feet below the level of the street, perfectly dark, unless when illumined by a roaring fire, and candles stuck in pyramidal lumps of clay, with a range of butts and barrels at one end, and benches and tables at the other, where the prisoners, debtors, and malefactors male and female, assembled as long as their money lasted, and consumed the time in drinking, smoking, and gaming with cards and dice. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. “I never wanted to kick any one so much in my life as that second fellow. It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. "She has flown up stairs," replied the widow. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. Kneebone nodded. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties.
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