‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. ” “Your ideas of fairness—” he remarked, and discontinued that sentence. 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. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. .
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