"And is this the woman?" The lawyer laughed because the judge asked this. "Oh, no," he said; "no, your honor, that's her mother. Step up, Blanche." What did the policeman say? "Shh! Paula, shh! Da-ah--" She couldn't hear on account of Paula moving so much and crying. Paula was hungry. She'd have to stay hungry a little while. What man? That one! But the policeman was talking about the man, not about Blanche. "He said, your honor, that she'd been following him down Madison Street for a block, talking to him and finally he stopped and she asked him--" "Shh! Paula, don't! Bad girl! Shh!" That man with the black mustache. Who was he? "Yes, your honor, I never saw her before. I walk in the street and she come up and talk to me and say, 'You wanna come home with me?'" "Blanche, how long has this been going on?" Look, Blanche was crying. Shh, Paula, shh! The judge was speaking. But Blanche didn't listen. The woman with the child was going to say, "Blanche, the judge," but her tongue grew frightened. "Speak up, Blanche." The judge said this. * * * * * She could hardly hear Blanche. It was funny to see her cry. Long ago she used to cry when she was a baby like Paula. But since she went to work she never cried. Never cried. "Oh, judge! Oh, judge! Please--" "Shh, Paula! Da-ah-ah-ah--" Why was this? What would the judge do? "Have you ever been arrested before, Blanche?" No, no, no! She must tell the judge that. The woman with the child raised her face. "Please, judge," she said, "No! No! She never arrested before. She's a good girl." "I see," said the judge. "Does she bring her money home?" "Yes, yes, judge! Please, she brings all her money home. She's a good girl." "Ever seen her before, officer?" "Well, your honor, I don't know. I've seen her in the street once or twice, and from the way she was behavin', your honor, I thought she needed watchin'." "Never caught her, though, officer?" No, your honor, this is the first time." "Hm," said his honor. Now the lawyer was talking. What was he saying? What was the matter? Blanche was a good girl. Why they arrest her? "Shh, Paula, shh! Mus'n't." She held the child closer to her heavy bosom. Hungry. But it must wait. Pretty soon. He was a nice judge. "All right," he said, "you can go, Blanche. But if they bring you in again it'll be the House of the Good Shepherd. Remember that. I'll let you go on account of her." A nice judge. "Thank you, thank you, judge. Shh, Paula! Goo-by." Now she would find out. She would ask Blanche. They could talk aloud in the hallway. "Blanche, come here." A note of authority came into the woman's voice. A girl of eighteen walking at her side turned a rouged, tear-stained face. "Aw, don't bother me, ma. I got enough trouble." "What was the matter with the policeman?" "Aw, he's a boob. That's all." "But what they arrest you for, Blanche? I knew it was a mistake. But what they arrest you for, Blanche? I gave him $10."