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. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. No mercenary consideration influences me. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside.
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