"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. Presently he heard her voice. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. 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. “I’m not in the mood right this instant. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully.
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