Chapter 35
Peace woke in the morning, blinked round the cell and swung his feet to the ground. John Ward—that was his name. No address. If they wanted to find out where he lived, let 'em find out. That was what they were paid for.
The gaoler brought him in coffee and bread and butter.
"I'm entitled to two ounces of bacon," said Peace, "and I want my rights."
"You've been in before, have you?"
"That's nothing to do with you. I'm entitled to two ounces of bacon—"
"A prisoner on remand is entitled to a little extra," said the gaoler patiently. "But you're not on remand. You'd better wait till tomorrow; you'll be on remand then all right, and you'll be eating government food for a good many years, you old so and so."
Peace scowled at him. "As a bird is known by his note, so is a man by
