“The policeman took him off. Don’t cry any more,” Jerry added, soothingly.
“But where shall I go?” she asked. “I can’t go back.”
“Have you no friends?”
“No. Crazy Jim and I came to New York alone when papa died.”
“Where did you come from?”
The little girl shook her head at this. She had been too young to remember.
“What is your name?”
“Dottie.”
“Dottie what?”
“Nothing, only Dottie.”