The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. It was a sickening process, and the sucking sound was sure to wake up Ray’s mother. We married, and for a time we were happy. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. 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. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror.
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