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. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. “Michelle said that your mom was a suspect because she ran away, visited some boyfriend of hers and then ran off into the night. Things happen to women—proper women—and all they have to do is to take them well.
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