Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. . 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. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. I don’t want to bother you, of course. . ” “Never for a second.
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