Even our coarseness. 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 don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal. Night and day have been alike to me. “Very well,” he said. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me.
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