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Though Alfred was quiet as a lamb all day, the attendants returned him to
the padded room at night, because he had been there last night. But they
only fastened one ankle to the bed-post: so he encountered his
Lilliputians on tolerably fair terms--numbers excepted: they swarmed.
Unable to sleep, he put out his hand and groped for his clothes. But they
were outside the door, according to rule.

Day broke at last: and he took his breakfast quietly with the first-class
patients. It consisted of cool tea in small basins instead of cups, and
table-spoons instead of tea-spoons; and thick slices of stale bread
thinly buttered. A few patients had gruel or porridge instead of tea.
After breakfast Alfred sat in the first-class patients' room and counted
the minutes and the hours till Edward should come. After dinner he
counted the hours till tea-time. Nobody came; and he went to bed in such
grief and disappointment as some men live to eighty without ever knowing.
But when two o'clock came next day, and no Edward, and no reply, then the
distress of his soul deepened.


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