society did
to the criminal, he thought to himself. It took him and tore away from
his body and his life the habiliments of his proper state and left him
these. He felt sad and grim, and, try as he would--he could not help
showing it for a moment. It was always his business and his intention
to conceal his real feelings, but now it was not quite possible. He felt
degraded, impossible, in these clothes, and he knew that he looked
it. Nevertheless, he did his best to pull himself together and look
unconcerned, willing, obedient, considerate of those above him. After
all, he said to himself, it was all a play of sorts, a dream even, if
one chose to view it so, a miasma even, from which, in the course of
time and with a little luck one might emerge safely enough. He hoped so.
It could not last. He was only acting a strange, unfamiliar part on the
stage, this stage of life that he knew so well.

Kendall did not waste any time looking at him, however. He merely said
to his assistant, "See if you can find a cap for him," and the latter,
going to a closet containing numbered shelves, took down a cap--a
high-crowned, straight-visored, shabby, striped affair which Cowperwood
was asked to try on. It fitted well enough, slipping down close over his
ears, and he thought that now his indignities must be about complete.
What could be added? There could be no more of these disconcerting
accoutrements. But he was mistaken. "Now, Kuby, you take him to Mr.
Chapin," said Kendall.

Kuby understood. He went back into the wash-room and produced what
Cowperwood had heard of but never before seen--a blue-and-white-striped
cotton bag about half the length of an ordinary pillow-case and half
again as wide, which Kuby now unfolded and shook out as he came toward
him. It was a custom. The use of this hood, dating from the earliest
days of the prison, was intended to prevent a sense of location and
direction and thereby obviate any attempt to escape. Thereafter during
all his stay he was not supposed to walk with or talk to or see another
prisoner--not even to converse with his superiors, unless addressed. It
was a grim theory, and yet one definitely enforced here, although as he
was to learn later even this could be modified here.

"You'll have to put this on," Kuby said, and opened it in such a way
that it could be put over Cowperwood's head.

Cowperwood understood. He had heard of it in some way, in times past. He
was a little shocked--looke