Women are afraid of the dark--and strange dogs.
Let there be light," scoffed Peter Brutus, spitting toward King.
"I'll get you for that some day," grated the American, white with anger.
Peter hesitated, then spat again and laughed loudly.
"Enough!" commanded William Spantz.

"We are not children." Turning to King he went on, a touch of kindness in his voice: "Cheer her if you can.

She is one of your class.

Do not let the lights go out." Raising his hands, he fairly drove the others from the doorway.

An instant later, King and his miserable, half-conscious companion were alone, locked in together, the fitful light from the candle on the floor playing hide and seek in shadows he had not seen before during his age of imprisonment.
For a long time he stood in his corner, watching the figure huddled against the opposite wall.