Official [shaking head]. Verstehe nicht. [The Little Man tries to tear his hair. The disturbed Baby wails.]
Little Man [dandling it as best he can]. There, there—poor, poor!
Official. Halt still! You are 'rested. It is all right.
Little Man. Where is the mother?
Official. She comm by next drain. Das telegram say: Halt einen Herrn mit schwarzem Buben and schwarzem Gepäck. 'Rest gentleman mit black baby und black—pag. [The Little Man turns up his eyes to heaven.]
Official. Komm mit us. [They take the Little Man toward the door from which they have come. A voice stops them.]
American [speaking from as far away as may be]. Just a moment! [The Official stops; the Little Man also stops and sits down on a bench against the wall. The Policeman stands stolidly beside him. The American approaches a step or two, beckoning; the Official goes up to him.]
American. Guess you've got an angel from heaven there! What's the gentleman in buttons for?
Official. Was ist das?
American. Is there anybody here that can understand Amurrican?