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I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. Or I should have made love to you long ago. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. "Jonathan Wild shall find it's not easy to detain me. 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. That is quite as far as I mean to tempt Providence to-night. “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres.
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