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 was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive.
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