“Good God, why should I have been!” he exclaimed.
“You! Why shouldn't you?” she cried fiercely.
“There's hardly a man in that place that wouldn't have been. They all know me by sight—and some of 'em better. You didn't see 'em grinning when I came up to you, but I did. My God—it's awful—it's awful I....” She burst into violent weeping, long deferred.
He took her hand in his, and did not speak, waiting for the fit to spend itself.... And after a while the convulsive shudders that shook her gradually ceased.
“You must trust me,” he said. “The first thing tomorrow I'm going to make arrangements for you to get out of these rooms. You can't stay here any longer.”
“That's sure,” she answered, trying to smile. “I'm broke. I even owe the co—the policeman.”
“The policeman!”
“He has to turn it in to Tom Beatty and the politicians”
Beatty! Where had he heard the name? Suddenly it came to him that Beatty was the city boss, who had been eulogized by Mr. Plimpton!
“I have some good friends who will be glad to help you to get work—and until you do get work. You will have to fight—but we all have to fight. Will you try?”