I want to talk to Mr. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. 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.
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