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. A question next arose whether the prisoner could be executed under the existing warrant,—some inclining to one opinion, some to another. ” She played with her hair. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. ‘She wants me to marry her. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders.
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