There is a punishment here more terrible than the rack." And he whispered to me with white sidelong eyes: "They can drive you mad in a week, Frank."[2] "Mad!" I exclaimed, thinking I must have misunderstood him; though he was white and trembling.
"What about the warders ?" I asked again, to change the subject, for I began to feel that I had supped full on horrors.
"Some of them are kind," he sighed.

"The one that brought me in here is so kind to me.

I should like to do something for him, when I get out.
He's quite human.

He does not mind talking to me and explaining things; but some of them at Wandsworth were brutes....

I will not think of them again.