Frank Crisp

Frank Crisp

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SYNOPSIS HE sat quite motionless on the edge of the narrow bed, his shoulders hunched forward, his hands clasped together over his knees in the rigid posture of a small boy waiting for an interview. His eyes traced the outline of the cell, noting each detail, the locker, the chair, the small bookshelf large enough to hold six books, the wash-basin, the plaster walls, the bars and the heavy lock. He was alone in this part of the great prison. The other convicts had long since gone off to their various duties. A smile trembled under the rigid muscles of his face. They would miss him in the cobblers' shop this morning. He would never go back there again.