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My, um, my curfew. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. Spurlock bent his head to the rail. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. 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. “So what is John up to today?” Lucy asked with a weary smile. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. “Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an unspoken compact? I am very sorry.
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