"
He burst into a roar of laughter. "I guess there's no stopping you,"
he said. He pinned the Governor's card to a blue paper on the desk,
and began filling in some blanks.
"Well, Miss McGill," he went on, "don't take away more than one of
my prisoners or I'll lose my job. The turnkey will take you up to
the cell. I'm exceedingly sorry: you can see that the mistake was
none of our fault. Tell the Governor that, will you, when you see
him?"
I followed the attendant up two flights of bare, stone stairs, and
down a long, whitewashed corridor. It was a gruesome place; rows
and rows of heavy doors with little, barred windows. I noticed
that each door had a combination knob, like a safe. My knees felt
awfully shaky.
But it wasn't really so heart-throbby as I had expected. The jailer
stopped at the end of a long passageway. He spun the clicking dial,
while I waited in a kind of horror. I think I expected to see the
Professor with shaved head (they couldn't shave much off his head,
poor lamb!) and striped canvas suit, and a ball and chain on his
ankle.
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