To-morrow he might be sorry; but to-day, this hour! She rose, not quickly, but with a dignity which only accentuated her beauty. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. 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. No doubt he has been drinking for days without eating substantially, and his heart gave out.
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