"No … but they usually do … after the first night… It helps, sometimes, to talk."
"I am afraid there's nothing to tell… I'm here, and I'll make the best of it…"
Fred wiped the clammy sweat from his forehead with a gesture of despair.
Harrison leaned forward. "Don't you feel well?" he inquired.
"It's nothing… I looked out into the yard this morning… I dare say one gets used to it—but for the moment… You have other yards, I suppose… That is, I sha'n't have to take the air there … shall I … in the bull pen?"
"It's usual … for the first day or two. But perhaps in your case—" Harrison broke off. "However, I can't promise anything… If you'll come to the office I'll give you back your clothes."
They went into the office together and Fred received his clothing duly marked with his name and ward. But his shoes were withheld and in their place he was given a pair of mismated slippers which proved too large. Harrison handed him two rag strips with which he tied them on. Looking down at the shapeless, flapping footgear, Fred Starratt felt his humiliation to be complete. He walked slowly back to his room.
The noise from the bull pen was deafening. He went to the window and steeled himself against the sight below… At first he shuddered, but gradually his hands became clenched, in answer to a rising determination. Why should he flinch from anything God himself could look upon?… He was still standing by the window when the gong for the midday meal sounded. The bull pen had long since been deserted and, with the foreground swept clean of its human excrescence, his purposeless gaze had wandered instinctively toward the promise of the forest-green hills in the distance.
He heard the familiar rush of feet toward the dining room and he was vaguely conscious that some one had halted before his door. He turned about. A young man, not over twenty-five, with a delicately chiseled face, was stepping into the room. As he drew closer Fred received the wistful impression of changing-blue eyes and a skin clear to the point of transparency. Fred met his visitor halfway.
"You came last night, didn't you?" the youth began, offering a shy hand. "I saw you this morning. I was in the crowd that looked you over just before breakfast… What are you here for?"