"Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. Stanley determined to improve the occasion. You’re neither of you any longer under arrest. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. It might as well be Melusine herself. 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.
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