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"I'm certainly most grateful, Mr. Bonhag," returned Cowperwood in his grandest manner, and
with a desire to smile, but he kept a straight face.
"In regard to that other matter," went on Bonhag, referring to the matter of extra visitors, "I can
fix that any time you want to. I know the men out at the gate. If you want anybody to come here,
just write 'em a note and give it to me, and tell 'em to ask for me when they come. That'll get 'em
in all right. When they get here you can talk to 'em in your cell. See! Only when I tap they have
to come out. You want to remember that. So just you let me know."
Cowperwood was exceedingly grateful. He said so in direct, choice language. It occurred to him
at once that this was Aileen's opportunity, and that he could now notify her to come. If she
veiled herself sufficiently she would probably be safe enough. He decided to write her, and
when Wingate came he gave him a letter to mail.
Two days later, at three o'clock in the afternoon--the time appointed by him--Aileen came to see
him. She was dressed in gray broadcloth with white-velvet trimmings and cut-steel buttons
which glistened like silver, and wore, as additional ornaments, as well as a protection against
the cold, a cap, stole, and muff of snow-white ermine. Over this rather striking costume she had
slipped a long dark circular cloak, which she meant to lay off immediately upon her arrival. She
had made a very careful toilet as to her shoes, gloves, hair, and the gold ornaments which she
wore. Her face was concealed by a thick green veil, as Cowperwood had suggested; and she
arrived at an hour when, as near as he had been able to prearrange, he would be alone.
Wingate usually came at four, after business, and Steger in the morning, when he came at all.
She was very nervous over this strange adventure, leaving the street-car in which she had
chosen to travel some distance away and walking up a side street. The cold weather and the
gray walls under a gray sky gave her a sense of defeat, but she had worked very hard to look
nice in order to cheer her lover up. She knew how readily he responded to the influence of her
beauty when properly displayed.
Cowperwood, in view of her coming, had made his cell as acceptable as possible. It was clean,
because he had swept it himself and made his own bed; and besides he had shaved and
combed his hair, and otherwise put himself to rights. The caned chairs on which he was working
had been put in the corner at the end of the bed. His few dishes were washed and hung up, and
his clogs brushed with a brush which he now kept for the purpose. Never before, he thought to
himself, with a peculiar feeling of artistic degradation, had Aileen seen him like this. She had
always admired his good taste in clothes, and the way he carried himself in them; and now she
was to see him in garments which no dignity of body could make presentable. Only a stoic
sense of his own soul-dignity aided him here. After all, as he now thought, he was Frank A.
Cowperwood, and that was something, whatever he wore. And Aileen knew it. Again, he might
be free and rich some day, and he knew that she believed that. Best of all, his looks under
these or any other circumstances, as he knew, would make no difference to Aileen. She would
only love him the more. It was her ardent sympathy that he was afraid of. He was so glad that
Bonhag had suggested that she might enter the cell, for it would be a grim procedure talking to
her through a barred door.
When Aileen arrived she asked for Mr. Bonhag, and was permitted to go to the central rotunda,
where he was sent for. When he came she murmured: "I wish to see Mr. Cowperwood, if you
please"; and he exclaimed, "Oh, yes, just come with me." As he came across the rotunda floor
from his corridor he was struck by the evident youth of Aileen, even though he could not see her
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