"I'm afraid, Your Honor, I'd tell you almost anything! What is it?"
"Where you come from—your home—why you left—"
"The story of my life—right away!"
"I should be interested!"
"My father was shot the week before I was born," she began, composing her features. "Mother was arrested on suspicion; I was born in jail...."
"Wait," he said, with an appreciative nod. "I don't want a romance!"
She laughed with some confusion.
"What a pity! It was such a good start."
"I want the truth—not one of a dozen stories you've made up!"
She eyed the tip of her red slipper, raising it slightly.