I cannot annul the warrant without some
recognizance. According to the laws of this State the next of
kin must stand surety for the prisoner's good behaviour after
release. There is no next of kin...."
"Surely there is!" I said. "I am the prisoner's next of kin."
"What do you mean?" he said. "In what relationship do you
stand to this Roger Mifflin?"
"I intend to marry him just as soon as I can get him away from here."
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.
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