“What you in for, mate?”
“Nothing. They shoved me in.”
“That’s me, to rights,” he answered. “Nothing: same ’ere. Burning’s pineful, too. Let’s ’ave a look at that door. Say, mate, got a bit of wire?”
“No.” Hi said, “I haven’t.”
The man took hold of the door, struck a match and examined the lock. He lit a cigarette before the match burned out. He had a packet of cigarettes. Hi thought him rather scurvy not to offer him one.
“You’ve not got a bit of wire?” the man said.
Hi said he hadn’t.
“What are you doing here?” the man said.
“Come to learn sugar-planting,” Hi said. “What are you doing?”
“None of your damned business,” the man said. “If I’d got a bit of wire,” he said, “I’d soon have this door open. But you haven’t got a bit of wire?”