“I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. 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. . As he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to comprehend. That is why I came to London. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy.
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