"What were you doing at the time?"
Myra spoke hardly above a whisper, for she felt that she was losing control of herself.
"I—I was walking with Miss Hemlitz."
"Walking? You mean picketing."
"Yes."
"Well, naturally, your word is not worth any more than the prisoner's.
You should have been arrested, too."
Myra could not speak any further; and the magistrate turned again to the policeman.
"You swear your charge is true?"
The policeman raised his hand.
"I swear."