" "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. It was for ever. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. ” Cathy ruffled Lucy’s curly hair. "Jack," said Mrs. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. 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. Empty, silly, coarse brutes.
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