Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. 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. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change.
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