Jim Cunneen laughed with the baker woman, while Clematis began to eat the doughnut, as they started out.
Before long they came to a brick building that had big doors.
“Here we are,” said the policeman. They turned, and went inside.
There another policeman was sitting at a desk behind a railing.
“Well, who comes here?” asked the policeman at the desk.
“That is more than I know,” replied Jim Cunneen. “I guess she’s lost out of the flower show. She says her name is Clematis.”
Clematis said nothing. Her mouth was full of cream cake now, and a little cream was running over her fingers.
Deborah was silent also. She was eating the last crumbs of the doughnut.
“Is that all you could find out?” The other man looked at Clematis.
“She says she has no father and no mother. Her cat is named Deborah. That is all she told me.”