When he’s found out where she’s staying, I’ll have him keep an eye on Valade’s residence in Paddington, I think. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. 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'm afraid I don't understand. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken.
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