Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. 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 place to which you went was not the English Embassy, and the whole performance was a fraud. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again.
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