We were therefore entitled to nothing but prison fare after leaving the Old Bailey.

But the hour was late, the cook was probably off duty, and our tea and toast had been waiting for us since five o'clock; so the head warder decided that we might postpone our trial of the prison _menu_ until the morning.

When it was brought to me, my toast (to use an Hibernicism) proved to be bread-and-butter.

There were three slices.

I ate two, but could not consume the third, my appetite being spoiled by excitement and the tepid tea.
The officer who acted as waiter informed me that the Old Bailey Street had been thronged all the afternoon, and was still crowded.