cence. It was a cloud; 9009 fancied it was the cloud that he had seen earlier in the day, when in the yard. He cast his eyes down to play with it again, to play the receding and approaching game of hide-and-go-seek. When he looked up again, the cloud was gone. It had been a very little cloud. And the blue was again there, the fresh tender blue.
A step sounded along the corridor; a shadow cut off the light; 9009 dropped his eyes levelly across the bars. Jennings was standing there, looking at him.
He looked at 9009 curiously, a long moment, then looked up at the window, far above. He glanced back into the cell, then, turning his back, shifted his position a foot. The patch of blue disappeared.
9009 remained where he was; his lips were no longer loose, his jaw did not droop, and the expression in his eyes was not of longing. The guard stood there, motionless; his back, square and brutal, rose like a wall before the cell-door.
For a long time they were thus. Occasionally,
