The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. You truly are your mother’s, Lucia. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. 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. Sebastian drank deeply and quickly of her blood.
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