’ She paused, struggling for the word. You must think it over. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. I demand it as a right. ” “I borrowed it,” said Ann Veronica in a casual tone, with white despair in her heart. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. 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. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. Startled by the cry, as may be supposed, the attention of the whole congregation was drawn towards the quarter whence it proceeded. That'll tune me up. Wild, Captain?" remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up.
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