gin-hells

Updated: May 17, 2025

And the little clay-coloured baby-faces made a grimace or two, and sank to sleep on the thin tawny breasts of the mothers, who having gathered courage from the essence of despair, faced the scowling night once more, and with bare necks and hopeless hearts went whither? Where do they all go when the gin-hells close their yawning jaws? Where do they lie down at night?

George MacDonald - Robert Falconer