"What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. "Quilt Arnold, is that you?" "It is, Sir," sputtered the janizary. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. ’ So pat, thought Gerald. 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.
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