Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. You’re dogmatic. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. 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. At any rate she must see me.
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