I would not have him know—now—for the world. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. 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. But that doesn’t alter the fact that there IS innocence. All of a sudden, there was movement behind him. I admit it.
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