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. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. "Was I out of my head?" "Yes. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. You are nothing of the sort.
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