"To judge weight and height for the proper drop."
Stannard had difficulty with the iron knob. Ricky wrenched open the scraping door. The first thing their lights picked up, inside, was a dilapidated rocking-chair.
And now the pull and swirl, of what Stannard had called atmosphere or vibrations, began to creep round Martin Drake. He could imagine someone sitting in that rocking-chair, someone who started up and cried, "Get out!" No, this wasn't going to be too easy. Martin subconsciously felt that, when he and Stannard drew lots, he would be the one to be locked up.
"Look there!" Stannard was saying. "Over in the corner. The rope."
"Rope?" Ruth almost screamed. "Not—?"
"No, of course not Easy, my dear!"
"I'm all right How dare you say I'm not all right?"
"Do you remember, this afternoon, when I told you about Hessler, the multilator of women's bodies? That he tried to escape from the condemned cell?"
"Yes. No! What about him?'
"The mercy and tact of our Prison Commission," cried Dr. Laurier, "are beyond praise. That picture of Our Saviour on the Cross is truly moving."