To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. "Where did I hear that before?" "Perhaps that first day, in the water-clock tower. 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. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand.
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