Aidee laughed, and said:
“They have to be lively.”
“That's right, Preacher. Folks say a thing, but what they got in their heads is the thing they don't say, ain't it?”
“You're a philosopher.”
“Oh, I do a pile of thinkin',” said the jailor complacently.
He mounted slowly to the upper corridor, knocked at a door, and unlocked it.
“Hicks, gentleman to see you.”
Hicks looked up, blinking and shading his eyes.
The jailor locked the door noisily behind Aidee, and walked away. At the end of the corridor he stopped and listened, and heard the murmur of low voices. He sat down and tipped his chair against the wall and meditated.
“Spiritual consolation! That's the word.”