It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. He let go of the girl’s arm. So she approached him with sandwiches. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. “It’s THE Society!” said Miss Miniver. 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.
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