She is more dear to me than anything else. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. “Sheila and Mark McCloskey?” Michelle asked. I would have liked to know. 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.
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