Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him. "The danger's past," whispered Bess. His spirits began to rise. You haven’t had it on your mind all this time?” “I have rather. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. Disgusted him! “For men policemen never blush; A man in all things scores so much. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered. In his way he was critical. gutenberg. She realized that with a pang of disgust and horror. 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. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees.
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