'I must ask you both to put your hands on the table in front of you, said the warder.
'Like Up Jenkins, said Margot faintly, laying her exquisitely manicured hands with the gloves beside her bag. Paul for the first time noticed how coarse and ill‑kept his hands had become. For a moment neither spoke.
'Do I look awful? Paul said at last. 'I haven't seen a looking‑glass for some time.
'Well, perhaps just a little mal soigné, darling. Don't they let you shave at all?
'No discussion of the prison regime is permitted. Prisoners are allowed to make a plain statement of their state of health but must on no account make complaints or comments upon their general condition.
'O dear! said Margot; 'this is going to be very difficult. What are we to say to each other? I'm almost sorry I came. You are glad I came, aren't you?
'Don't mind me, mum, if you wants to talk personal, said the warder kindly. 'I only has to stop conspiracy. Nothing I hears ever goes any farther, and I hears a good deal, I can tell you. They carry on awful, some of the women, what with crying and fainting and hysterics generally. Why, one of them, he said with relish, 'had an epileptic fit not long ago.
'I think it's more than likely I shall have a fit, said Margot. 'I've never felt so shy in my life. Paul, do say something, please.
'How's Alastair? said Paul.
'Rather sweet, really. He's always at King's Thursday now. I like him.