"What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. 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. “Is this a concession to Mrs. The man was mad to marry me.
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