These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. ” “Any place would be beautiful,” said Ann Veronica, in a low voice. It was then, I am sure, empty. 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. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. “As she asked!” “It is already too late. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica to the darkness; “I’ll fight it.
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