” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. “Punctual. “And now tell me, please, how you eloped from Morningside Park. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. ” She shook her fist ceilingward. 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. The Night-Cellar. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. Relief flooded her. I’ve got to have you, and by God I will. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way.
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