"Caught up with th' boy friend, hey? 'Stoo bad, lady."
"My grandmother," Avalon said icily, "is in jail for matricide. I'm taking her a hacksaw. Will you hurry?"
All the way to the gloomy pile of stone, the cab driver shook his head. When Avalon paid him off, he looked at her with troubled eyes.
" 'Scuse me, lady, but why would the old dame steal a mattress? It don't make sense."
"She got tired of sleeping on the ground," Avalon told him. "Some people just can't take it."
She went inside and was directed to the desk sergeant. He was a large man, and the lines in his face had not been acquired by thinking up ways to help his fellow man. He was busy at the moment she arrived before him, studying some printed matter on his desk. He didn't look up.
"Excuse me," Avalon said.
The sergeant paid no attention. He continued his study of the papers before him. He held a pencil in one huge fist, and made a check mark now and then.
"I beg your pardon," Avalon said.
Still there was no evidence that the sergeant had heard her. He continued to peruse his mysterious papers. Avalon, like those who also serve, stood and waited. Presently the sergeant made a check mark after the name Sir Walter in the fourth at Pimlico and looked up.