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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 believe so because the 220 stories say his head was cut off by a tribe of witches and yet it still remained alive for many years after his decapitation. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. . "His shin may need rubbing. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-09-2024 16:34:27
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