"If you arrest her, you must arrest me."

"I got nottin' on you."

"Yes, you have. I said 'Good evening' to her, just what she said to me."

"Get the hell out of here, and don't give me none of your lip, or I'll
run you in. Come along!" the policeman ordered, and he and the girl
started on toward Jefferson Market. Jarvis marched beside them. When
they turned in at the door where prisoners are entered, the policeman
again ordered Jarvis off.

"Go round in front if you're crazy to be in on this," he said.

Jarvis hurried round to the front door and went in. The courtroom was
packed. He had trouble in finding a seat, but he finally got into the
front row, just behind the rail that divides the dock from the
spectators. One half of the room was full of swine--fat, blowse-necked
Jewish men, lawyers, cadets, owners of houses--all the low breeds who
fatten off the degradation of women. Their business was to pay the fines
or go bail.

The other half of the room, to Jarvis's horror, was full of young boys
and girls, some almost children, there out of curiosity. A goodly number
of street walkers sat at the back. It was their habit to come into court
to see what judge was sitting. If it was one who levied strict fines, or
was prone to send girls up to Bedford, they spent the evening there,
instead of on the streets.

The first case called, after Jarvis's entrance, was that of the keeper
of a disorderly house. She was horrible. He felt she ought to be branded
in some way, so that she and her vile trade would be known wherever she
went. A man went her bail, and she flounced out in a cloud of patchouli.

Two coloured girls were brought in, and sent up for thirty days. Then
several old women, the kind of human travesties Jarvis had seen sleeping
on the benches, were marched before the judge, who called them all
by name.

"Well, Annie," he said to one of them, "you haven't been here for some
weeks. How did it happen this time?"

"I've been a-walkin' all day, your honour. I guess I fell asleep in the
doorway."

"You've been pretty good lately. I'll let you off easy. Fine, one
dollar."

"Oh, thanks, your honour." She was led off, and Jarvis sickened at the
sight.

A series of young girls followed, cheaply modish, with their willow
plumes and their vanity bags. Some cheerful, some cynical, some defiant.
One slip of a thing heard her sentence, looked up in the judge's face,
and laughed. Jarvis knew that never, while he live