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. He was speechless. It was possible that his first impressions had not been correct. Almost had Martha won out. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. No one seeing you together could doubt that she is your granddaughter. ” She looked at him quizzically. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch.
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