The other, the east end of
the factory, fronted into a very narrow back street, not twenty feet
wide, and miserably lighted and paved. Right against this end of
the factory were the gable ends of the last house in the principal
street--a house which from its size, its handsome stone facings, and
the attempt at ornament in the front, had probably been once a
gentleman's house; but now the light which streamed from its
enlarged front windows made clear the interior of the splendidly
fitted-up room, with its painted walls, its pillared recesses, its
gilded and gorgeous fittings-up, its miserable squalid inmates. It
was a gin palace.
Mary almost wished herself away, so fearful (as Margaret had said)
was the sight when they joined the crowd assembled to witness the
fire. There was a murmur of many voices whenever the roaring of the
flames ceased for an instant. It was easy to perceive the mass were
deeply interested.
"What do they say?" asked Margaret of a neighbour in the crowd, as
she caught a few words clear and distinct from the general murmur.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114