tacle bows looped over the ears, and Calvin knew Hoberg's neighbor for Max Elmen, the criminal lawyer.
On the other side of him was a short, fat man with thick lips and bristling black hair; this was Weigal, Calvin realized, the proprietor of the Echo Garden. There were newspaper men, and gesturing foreigners whispering together whom Calvin took for musicians from the Echo; girls had pushed to places in this group before the judge. The Nesson girl, Calvin recognized; and there was the woman who had asked him for Ketlar's child last night.
She looked older, in daylight, with her bleached, blond, carefully waved hair and her powdered skin, but she stood with no less dignity than she had in the dark; she stood very erect at a distance of six feet back of her son; several men were between her and him, and as she gazed at his tall, flaxen head, she moved her own head slightly from right to left to keep her son in sight as people between blocked her vision.
The red head of Hoberg bent down, and as the man spoke to some one hidden by him, Calvin started, and he knew that the Royle girl was there.
"Your honor," declaimed Elmen's deep, rasping voice, "your honor," he addressed the judge again and then turned and in taunting tone challenged Calvin, "if the State is now represented, if you please," he added with exaggerated indulgence.
"The state is represented," replied Calvin, pushing forward, and his own word put him in mind again of the Royle girl's challenge of him for coming in the name of the State. He confronted his immediate antagonist, who was Elmen; but his mind for the moment lingered in that space, hidden by Hoberg, where undoubtedly the Royle girl stood. He imagined her standing on tiptoes to see him.
