Yes, we do care. For the first time [-do-] we {+do+} care about our body. For this wire is [-as-] a part of our body, as a vein torn from us, glowing with our blood. Are we {+are+} proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made it, or is there a line to divide these [-two?-] {+two.+} We stretch out our arms. For the first time do we know how strong our arms are. And a strange thought comes to us: we wonder, for the first time in our life, what we look like. Men never see their own faces and never ask their brothers about it, for it is evil to have concern for their own faces or bodies. But tonight, for a reason we cannot fathom, we wish it were possible to us to know the likeness of our own person. [-PART SIX-] {+Chapter Six+} We have not written for thirty days. For thirty days we have not been here, in our tunnel. We had been caught. It happened on that night when we wrote last. We forgot, that night, to watch the sand in the glass which tells us when three hours have passed and it is time to return to the City Theatre. When we [-remembered it,-] {+remembered,+} the sand had run out. We hastened to the Theatre. But the big tent stood grey and silent against the sky. The streets of the City lay before us, dark and empty. If we went back to hide in our tunnel, we would be found and our light [-found-] with us. So we walked to the Home of the Street Sweepers. When the Council of the Home questioned us, we looked upon the faces of the Council, but there was no curiosity in those faces, and no anger, and no mercy. So when the oldest of them asked us: "Where have you been?" we thought of our glass box and of our light, and we forgot all else. And we answered: "We will not tell you." The oldest did not question us further. They turned to the two youngest, and said, and their voice was bored: "Take our brother Equality 7-2521 to the Palace of Corrective Detention. Lash them until they tell." So we were taken to the Stone Room under the Palace of Corrective Detention. This room has no windows and it is empty save for an iron post. Two men stood by the post, naked but for leather aprons and leather hoods over their faces. Those who had brought us departed, leaving us to the two Judges who stood in a corner of the room. The [-Judges-] {+judges+} were small, thin men, grey and bent. They gave the signal to the two strong hooded ones. They tore [-the-] {+our+} clothes from our body, they threw us down upon our knees and they tied our hands to the iron post. The first blow of the lash felt as if our spine had been cut in two. The second blow stopped the first, and for a second we felt nothing, then [-the-] pain struck us in our throat and fire ran in our lungs without air. But we did not cry out.