” A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the speaker. ” “I thought so,” Courtlaw said. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. 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. “Dare!” she said.
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