"Very well," said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty head, "very well. But you! Ruth is your lawful wife. 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. Spurling had retired for the night. No matter how many books one read, each was different, as each human being was different. . ‘I want a word with you, my lad. We did not know where to send … in case you died. Knew something was up.
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