“None, sir.”
“Is there anything you want?”
“No, sir.”
The Governor looked at the table. The writing-pad, which had been placed for the condemned prisoner’s use, had not been touched.
“You have no letters to write? I suppose you can write?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve no letters to write.”
“What are you, Carter? You’re not an ordinary tramp. You’re better educated than that class.”
“I’m an ordinary tramp, sir,” said Ray quietly.
“Have you all the books you need?”
Ray nodded, and the Governor went out. Every day came these inevitable inquiries. Sometimes the Governor made reference to his friends, but he grew tired of asking questions about the unused blotting-pad.