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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 4,784 pages of information about Complete Project Gutenberg John Galsworthy Works.

The governor.  I’ll make a point of seeing him to-day.

Cokeson.  I’m much obliged to you.  I thought perhaps seeing him every day you wouldn’t notice it.

The governor. [Rather sharply] If any sign of injury to his health shows itself his case will be reported at once.  That’s fully provided for. [He rises]

Cokeson. [Following his own thoughts] Of course, what you don’t see doesn’t trouble you; but having seen him, I don’t want to have him on my mind.

The governor.  I think you may safely leave it to us, sir.

Cokeson. [Mollified and apologetic] I thought you’d understand me.  I’m a plain man—­never set myself up against authority. [Expanding to the chaplain] Nothing personal meant.  Good-morning.

     As he goes out the three officials do not look at each other,
     but their faces wear peculiar expressions.

The chaplain.  Our friend seems to think that prison is a hospital.

Cokeson. [Returning suddenly with an apologetic air] There’s just one little thing.  This woman—­I suppose I mustn’t ask you to let him see her.  It’d be a rare treat for them both.  He’s thinking about her all the time.  Of course she’s not his wife.  But he’s quite safe in here.  They’re a pitiful couple.  You couldn’t make an exception?

The governor. [Wearily] As you say, my dear sir, I couldn’t make an exception; he won’t be allowed another visit of any sort till he goes to a convict prison.

Cokeson.  I see. [Rather coldly] Sorry to have troubled you. [He again goes out]

The chaplain. [Shrugging his shoulders] The plain man indeed, poor fellow.  Come and have some lunch, Clements?

     He and the doctor go out talking.

     The governor, with a sigh, sits down at his table and takes up a
     pen.

The curtain falls.

SCENE II

Part of the ground corridor of the prison.  The walls are coloured with greenish distemper up to a stripe of deeper green about the height of a man’s shoulder, and above this line are whitewashed.  The floor is of blackened stones.  Daylight is filtering through a heavily barred window at the end.  The doors of four cells are visible.  Each cell door has a little round peep-hole at the level of a man’s eye, covered by a little round disc, which, raised upwards, affords a view o f the cell.  On the wall, close to each cell door, hangs a little square board with the prisoner’s name, number, and record.

     Overhead can be seen the iron structures of the first-floor and
     second-floor corridors.

     The warder instructor, a bearded man in blue uniform, with an
     apron, and some dangling keys, is just emerging from one of the
     cells.

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