A quick flush stained her cheeks. ” She laughed softly. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. It might be dangerous to thwart him. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. 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 scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile.
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