"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."
"Aw, shut up! Don't bother me."
The woman shrugged her shoulders and turned to the child in her arms.
"Da-ah-ah, Paula. Mamma feed you right away. Soon we find place to sit down. Shh, Paula! Mus'n't. Da-ah-ah—"
When she looked up Blanche had vanished. She stood still for a while and then, holding the year-old child closer to her, walked toward the elevator. There was nothing to see in her eyes.
CLOCKS AND OWL CARS
As they say in the melodramas, the city sleeps. Windows have said good-night to one another. Rooftops have tucked themselves away. The pavements are still. People have vanished. The darkness sweeping like a great broom through the streets has emptied them.