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 come up to the state's attorney's suite afterwards. Who knew?

Joan Daisy, having obtained permission from Elmen, did visit the jail on the next afternoon; she passed the steel door by which visitors, one by one, are admitted after inspection through a small, barred peep-pane, and she took her place in the queue of felons' friends shifting forward, singly, each to report the name of the prisoner he desired to see, his own name and his connection with the prisoner. Then, if it was found that his name was on the list approved for the prisoner, a card was issued.

Upon the list approved for Ket was Joan Daisy's name; so she obtained her pass, entered the elevator and was lifted, in company with two men and four women and a child, to a floor where the guard announced, "This is Ketlar's; and Cribben's, too."

One of the women, and the most miserable-looking, evidently was for Cribben, for she and Joan Daisy stepped out together; and the elevator, rising, left them shut in a small, tile-floored space completely enclosed by thick steel bars and gratings. A high, barred window to the west admitted a shaft of the sunlight of the cool, October afternoon; and Joan Daisy gazed up at the light thus shining between the bars and upon steel bars; bars and barriers, locks and gratings, guards everywhere.

A guard inspected Joan Daisy's card and also that of the woman who had come to see Cribben; and he swung back a section of the steel barrier, admitting them into a sort of corridor, barred behind and screened in front by a closely woven brattice of steel, painted white and pierced by small, square holes about a pencil's girth in size.

Voices spoke and the odor of sweat and tobacco smoke was on the steam-heated air, but at first Joan Daisy saw