Justice [24]
sir. [He goes back into his cell.
THE GOVERNOR. [To the DOCTOR] Just go in and see him, Clements.
The DOCTOR goes into the cell. The GOVERNOR pushes the door to, nearly closing it, and walks towards the window.
WOODER. [Following] Sorry you should be troubled like this, sir. Very contented lot of men, on the whole.
THE GOVERNOR. [Shortly] You think so?
WOODER. Yes, sir. It's Christmas doing it, in my opinion.
THE GOVERNOR. [To himself] Queer, that!
WOODER. Beg pardon, sir?
THE GOVERNOR. Christmas!
He turns towards the window, leaving WOODER looking at him with a sort of pained anxiety.
WOODER. [Suddenly] Do you think we make show enough, sir? If you'd like us to have more holly?
THE GOVERNOR. Not at all, Mr. Wooder.
WOODER. Very good, sir.
The DOCTOR has come out of FALDER's Cell, and the GOVERNOR beckons to him.
THE GOVERNOR. Well?
THE DOCTOR. I can't make anything much of him. He's nervous, of course.
THE GOVERNOR. Is there any sort of case to report? Quite frankly, Doctor.
THE DOCTOR. Well, I don't think the separates doing him any good; but then I could say the same of a lot of them--they'd get on better in the shops, there's no doubt.
THE GOVERNOR. You mean you'd have to recommend others?
THE DOCTOR. A dozen at least. It's on his nerves. There's nothing tangible. That fellow there [pointing to O'CLEARY'S cell], for instance--feels it just as much, in his way. If I once get away from physical facts--I shan't know where I am. Conscientiously, sir, I don't know how to differentiate him. He hasn't lost weight. Nothing wrong with his eyes. His pulse is good. Talks all right.
THE GOVERNOR. It doesn't amount to melancholia?
THE DOCTOR. [Shaking his head] I can report on him if you like; but if I do I ought to report on others.
THE GOVERNOR. I see. [Looking towards FALDER'S cell] The poor devil must just stick it then.
As he says thin he looks absently at WOODER.
WOODER. Beg pardon, sir?
For answer the GOVERNOR stares at him, turns on his heel, and walks away. There is a sound as of beating on metal.
THE GOVERNOR. [Stopping] Mr. Wooder?
WOODER. Banging on his door, sir. I thought we should have more of that.
He hurries forward, passing the GOVERNOR, who follows closely.
The curtain falls.
SCENE III
FALDER's cell, a whitewashed space thirteen feet broad by seven deep, and nine feet high, with a rounded ceiling. The floor is of shiny blackened bricks. The barred window of opaque glass, with a ventilator, is high up in the middle of the end wall. In the middle of the opposite end wall is the narrow door. In a corner are the mattress and bedding rolled up [two blankets, two sheets, and a coverlet]. Above them is a quarter-circular wooden shelf, on which is a Bible and several little devotional books, piled in a symmetrical pyramid; there are also a black hair brush, tooth-brush, and a bit of soap. In another corner is the wooden frame of a bed, standing on end. There is a dark ventilator under the window, and another over the door. FALDER'S work [a shirt to which he is putting buttonholes] is hung to a nail on the wall over a small wooden table, on which the novel "Lorna Doone" lies open. Low down in the corner by the door is a thick glass screen, about a foot square, covering the gas-jet let into the wall. There is also a wooden stool, and a pair of shoes beneath it. Three bright round tins are set under the window.
In fast-failing daylight, FALDER, in his stockings, is seen standing motionless, with his head inclined towards the door, listening. He moves a little closer to the door, his stockinged feet making no noise. He stops at the door. He is trying harder and harder to hear something, any little thing that is going on outside. He springs suddenly upright--as if
THE GOVERNOR. [To the DOCTOR] Just go in and see him, Clements.
The DOCTOR goes into the cell. The GOVERNOR pushes the door to, nearly closing it, and walks towards the window.
WOODER. [Following] Sorry you should be troubled like this, sir. Very contented lot of men, on the whole.
THE GOVERNOR. [Shortly] You think so?
WOODER. Yes, sir. It's Christmas doing it, in my opinion.
THE GOVERNOR. [To himself] Queer, that!
WOODER. Beg pardon, sir?
THE GOVERNOR. Christmas!
He turns towards the window, leaving WOODER looking at him with a sort of pained anxiety.
WOODER. [Suddenly] Do you think we make show enough, sir? If you'd like us to have more holly?
THE GOVERNOR. Not at all, Mr. Wooder.
WOODER. Very good, sir.
The DOCTOR has come out of FALDER's Cell, and the GOVERNOR beckons to him.
THE GOVERNOR. Well?
THE DOCTOR. I can't make anything much of him. He's nervous, of course.
THE GOVERNOR. Is there any sort of case to report? Quite frankly, Doctor.
THE DOCTOR. Well, I don't think the separates doing him any good; but then I could say the same of a lot of them--they'd get on better in the shops, there's no doubt.
THE GOVERNOR. You mean you'd have to recommend others?
THE DOCTOR. A dozen at least. It's on his nerves. There's nothing tangible. That fellow there [pointing to O'CLEARY'S cell], for instance--feels it just as much, in his way. If I once get away from physical facts--I shan't know where I am. Conscientiously, sir, I don't know how to differentiate him. He hasn't lost weight. Nothing wrong with his eyes. His pulse is good. Talks all right.
THE GOVERNOR. It doesn't amount to melancholia?
THE DOCTOR. [Shaking his head] I can report on him if you like; but if I do I ought to report on others.
THE GOVERNOR. I see. [Looking towards FALDER'S cell] The poor devil must just stick it then.
As he says thin he looks absently at WOODER.
WOODER. Beg pardon, sir?
For answer the GOVERNOR stares at him, turns on his heel, and walks away. There is a sound as of beating on metal.
THE GOVERNOR. [Stopping] Mr. Wooder?
WOODER. Banging on his door, sir. I thought we should have more of that.
He hurries forward, passing the GOVERNOR, who follows closely.
The curtain falls.
SCENE III
FALDER's cell, a whitewashed space thirteen feet broad by seven deep, and nine feet high, with a rounded ceiling. The floor is of shiny blackened bricks. The barred window of opaque glass, with a ventilator, is high up in the middle of the end wall. In the middle of the opposite end wall is the narrow door. In a corner are the mattress and bedding rolled up [two blankets, two sheets, and a coverlet]. Above them is a quarter-circular wooden shelf, on which is a Bible and several little devotional books, piled in a symmetrical pyramid; there are also a black hair brush, tooth-brush, and a bit of soap. In another corner is the wooden frame of a bed, standing on end. There is a dark ventilator under the window, and another over the door. FALDER'S work [a shirt to which he is putting buttonholes] is hung to a nail on the wall over a small wooden table, on which the novel "Lorna Doone" lies open. Low down in the corner by the door is a thick glass screen, about a foot square, covering the gas-jet let into the wall. There is also a wooden stool, and a pair of shoes beneath it. Three bright round tins are set under the window.
In fast-failing daylight, FALDER, in his stockings, is seen standing motionless, with his head inclined towards the door, listening. He moves a little closer to the door, his stockinged feet making no noise. He stops at the door. He is trying harder and harder to hear something, any little thing that is going on outside. He springs suddenly upright--as if