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. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No. "And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh, Jack?" remarked Hogarth. "In with him!" "Ay—ay, yer hon'r," cried the foremost chairman, lending a helping hand. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. ‘She may well try to go back.
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