God help me. " "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. 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 cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour.
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