When the court had adjourned and the jury had retired to consider their verdict, one of the guards unlocked the cage and Teddy was taken down by a corkscrew staircase to a room immediately below. It was a small room, lighted by one feeble bulb, and aired from an air shaft. A table and two chairs stood in the middle of the room; a shiny, well-worn bench was fixed to one of the walls. The guards took the chairs; Teddy sat down on the bench. One of the guards cut off a piece of tobacco and put it in his mouth; the other lighted a cheap cigar. Taking another from an upper waistcoat pocket, he held it out toward Teddy. "Have a smoke, young fella?" Teddy shook his head. He was hardly aware of being addressed. Nothing else was said to him, and the guards, almost silently, began a game of cards. This waiting with prisoners for verdicts was always a tedious affair, and one to be got through patiently. To Teddy, it was not so much tedious as it was unreal. He sat with arms folded, his head sunk, and the foot of the leg which was thrown across the other leg kicking outward mechanically. Except for a rare grunted remark between the players, there was no sound but the slap of the cards on the table and the scooping in of the tricks. After nearly half an hour the door opened and Bob Collingham came in with a basket containing sandwiches and a thermos bottle of hot coffee. With a word of explanation to the guards, he was allowed to take his seat beside the prisoner. "Hello, old sport! Must be relieved that it’s so soon going to be over. Brought you something to eat." With this introduction, they took up commonplace ground as if it was a commonplace occasion. Teddy asked after his mother and sisters; Bob gave him the family news. Of the trial they said nothing. Of what they were waiting for no more was said than that Bob had persuaded Jennie and Gussie to go home, promising to come and tell them the decision. Lizzie and Gladys had not appeared in the courtroom at all. Of all this Teddy approved as he munched his sandwiches stolidly. The supply of food and coffee being large, they invited the guards to share with them. The invitation was accepted, the officers suspending their game. The talk became friendly, commenting on the judge’s wig and the glass eye of the foreman of the jury, but not touching directly on the trial. These subjects, as well as the supply of sandwiches, exhausted, the guards returned to their game, the two young men being left to themselves. For the most part they sat in silence—a silence as nearly cheerful as the circumstances permitted. "Don’t worry about me, Bob," Teddy murmured once. "I’m not going to care much whichever way it is. Honest to God! I don’t say I wouldn’t like it if they sent me back home; but if they don’t—" Allowing his companion to finish the sentence for himself, he lapsed into silence again. Another time, speaking as if subterranean thought came for a moment to the surface, he said: