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. My address is 94, Pall Mall. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. You must wait till supper's over. 1 through 1. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. Jack appealed to the new auditors, and again detailed his story, but with no better success than heretofore.
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