here for a minute. [WOODER salutes, and goes
out] Let's see, he's not married?

COKESON. No. [Confidentially] But there's a party he's very much
attached to, not altogether com-il-fa. It's a sad story.

THE CHAPLAIN. If it wasn't for drink and women, sir, this prison
might be closed.

COKESON. [Looking at the CHAPLAIN over his spectacles] Ye-es, but I
wanted to tell you about that, special. He had hopes they'd have let
her come and see him, but they haven't. Of course he asked me
questions. I did my best, but I couldn't tell the poor young fellow
a lie, with him in here--seemed like hitting him. But I'm afraid
it's made him worse.

THE GOVERNOR. What was this news then?

COKESON. Like this. The woman had a nahsty, spiteful feller for a
husband, and she'd left him. Fact is, she was going away with our
young friend. It's not nice--but I've looked over it. Well, when he
was put in here she said she'd earn her living apart, and wait for
him to come out. That was a great consolation to him. But after a
month she came to me--I don't know her personally--and she said:
"I can't earn the children's living, let alone my own--I've got no
friends. I'm obliged to keep out of everybody's way, else my
husband'd get to know where I was. I'm very much reduced," she said.
And she has lost flesh. "I'll have to go in the workhouse!" It's a
painful story. I said to her: "No," I said, "not that! I've got a
wife an' family, but sooner than you should do that I'll spare you a
little myself." "Really," she said--she's a nice creature--"I don't
like to take it from you. I think I'd better go back to my husband."
Well, I know he's a nahsty, spiteful feller--drinks--but I didn't
like to persuade her not to.

THE CHAPLAIN. Surely, no.

COKESON. Ye-es, but I'm sorry now; it's upset the poor young fellow
dreadfully. And what I wanted to say was: He's got his three years
to serve. I want things to be pleasant for him.

THE CHAPLAIN. [With a touch of impatience] The Law hardly shares
your view, I'm afraid.

COKESON. But I can't help thinking that to shut him up there by
himself'll turn him silly. And nobody wants that, I s'pose. I don't
like to see a man cry.

THE CHAPLAIN. It's a very rare thing for them to give way like that.

COKESON. [Looking at him-in a tone of sudden dogged hostility]
I keep dogs.

THE CHAPLAIN. Indeed?

COKESON. Ye-es. And I say this: I wouldn't shut one of them up all
b