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. “Don’t bunch too much as you come out,” she added. "Ruth?" Silence for a moment. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those hateful glasses. She tried to think what she should do in this eventuality or that. ‘Ha! Just the person I want. Think! You could not have done it.
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