Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Above was a spacious hall, connected with it by a flight of stone steps, at the further end of which stood an immense grated door, called in the slang of the place "The Jigger," through the bars of which the felons in the upper wards were allowed to converse with their friends, or if they wished to enter the room, or join the revellers below, they were at liberty to do so, on payment of a small fine. They went first to a hotel, and then out again on to the boulevards. The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound. Some day older people, perhaps, will trouble to understand younger people, and there won’t be these fierce disruptions; there won’t be barriers one must defy or perish. And you, Austin; and you Langley, I say the same thing to you. We’re closer than you think.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 20:03:48
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