“You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. Then he turned on his heel and walked off. 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. ’ His features relaxed again and he grinned. “You have the temperament,” he said. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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