She nodded rapidly.
"Of course not; you ought to know that. Every one knows that--even the coppers." His sentence ended with a sneer cast in the officer's direction. And Gusta sighed.
"I'm so glad!" she said, her bosom rising and falling in relief. "They all said--"
"Oh, that's just the frame-up," said Archie. "They'd job me for it quick enough." He was sneering again at the officer, as incarnating the whole police system, and his face was darkened by a look of all hatred and malignity. The officer smiled calmly.
"I'm so glad," Gusta was smiling now. "But--" she began. Her lip quivered; the tears started afresh. "What about the other?"
"That was self-defense; he agitated me to it. But don't let's talk before that copper there--" He could not avert his look of hatred from the officer, whose face was darkening, as he plucked nervously at his mustache.
"He'd say anything--that's his business," Archie went on, unable to restrain himself.
"Sh! Don't, Archie!" Gusta said. "Don't!"
Archie drew in full breaths, inflating his white chest. The officer returned his look of hatred, his bronzed face had taken on a shade of green; the two men struggled silently, then controlled themselves. Gusta was trying again to choke down her sobs.
"How's father?" Archie asked, after a silence, striving for a commonplace tone.