The door clanged under the key.
“Good-day to you,” said the head warder.
The released prisoner turned his smiling face and nodded; turned it to the janitor, nodded again, and walked out between them, putting on a grey felt hat. The door clanged under the key.
“Smiling!” remarked the janitor.
“Ah! Cool customer,” said the head warder. “Clever man, though, I’m told.”
His voice sounded resentful, a little surprised, as if he had missed the last word by saying it....
Hands in pockets, the released prisoner walked at leisure in the centre of the pavement. An October day of misty sunshine, and the streets full of people seeking the midday meal. And if they chanced to glance at this passer-by their eyes would fly away at once, as a finger flies from a too hot iron....
2 §
On the platform the prison chaplain, who had a day off and was going up to town, saw a face under a grey hat which seemed vaguely familiar.
“Yes,” said a voice. “Late—299. Raider.”