He contracted his brows in a weak attempt at sternness, and directed a steady gaze at Bess.
“Who sold you that dope?”
She met his eyes squarely.
“I don’t t’ink I know um again,” she said in a low, even tone. “I buy from um in de dark, las’ night, an’ he gone off right away.”
“It’s no use, Your Honor,” put in the policeman. “They won’t give each other away.”
The judge fixed the culprit with a long scrutiny. Then he asked:
“Have you any money to pay a fine?”
“No, suh. Yuh’ll jus’ hab tuh gib’ me my time.”
A man entered the room.
“I beg your pardon, Your Honor,” he said, “but there is a cripple outside in a goat-cart who says he is prepared to pay the woman’s fine.”