Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. I walked London till the soles of my shoes were worn through, and my toes were blistered. ’ ‘You have seen him? Exactement. 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 sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. “Yes.
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