She had not at first the power for concealment. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. Squire and master. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. 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.
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