There was Blanche coming out of the door. She looked bad. Her face. Oh,
yes, poor girl, she worked too hard. But what could she do? Only work. And
now they arrested her. They arrested Blanche when the streets were full of
bums and loafers, they arrested Blanche who worked hard.

Go up in front like the lawyer said. Sure. There was Blanche going now.
And the lawyer, too. He had a better face than the other one who came and
asked.

"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?