"Judge, here is a peculiar case of a young woman who doesn't know who she is or where she came from. You had better attend to it at once." I commenced to shake with more than the cold, and I looked around at the strange crowd about me, composed of poorly dressed men and
women with stories printed on their faces of hard lives, abuse and poverty. Some were consulting eagerly with friends, while others sat still with
a look of utter hopelessness. Everywhere was a sprinkling of well-dressed, well-fed officers watching the scene passively and almost
indifferently. It was only an old story with them. One more unfortunate added to a long list which had long since ceased to be of any interest or
concern to them.
"Come here, girl, and lift your veil," called out Judge Duffy, in tones which surprised me by a harshness which I did not think from the kindly face
he possessed.
"Who are you speaking to?" I inquired, in my stateliest manner.
"Come here, my dear, and lift your veil. You know the Queen of England, if she were here, would have to lift her veil," he said, very kindly.
"That is much better," I replied. "I am not the Queen of England, but I'll lift my veil."
As I did so the little judge looked at me, and then, in a very kind and gentle tone, he said: "My dear child, what is wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong except that I have lost my trunks, and this man," indicating Policeman Bockert, "promised to bring me where they could be
found."
"What do you know about this child?" asked the judge, sternly, of Mrs. Stanard, who stood, pale and trembling, by my side.
"I know nothing of her except that she came to the home yesterday and asked to remain overnight."
"The home! What do you mean by the home?" asked Judge Duffy, quickly.
"It is a temporary home kept for working women at No. 84 Second Avenue."
"What is your position there?"
"I am assistant matron."
"Well, tell us all you know of the case."When I was going into the home yesterday I noticed her coming down the avenue. She was all alone. I had just got into the house when the
bell rang and she came in. When I talked with her she wanted to know if she could stay all night, and I said she could. After awhile she said all
the people in the house looked crazy, and she was afraid of them. Then she would not go to bed, but sat up all the night."
"Had she any money?"
"Yes," I replied, answering for her, "I paid her for everything, and the eating was the worst I ever tried."
There was a general smile at this, and some murmurs of "She's not so crazy on the food question."
"Poor child," said Judge Duffy, "she is well dressed, and a lady. Her English is perfect, and I would stake everything on her being a good girl. I
am positive she is somebody's darling."
At this announcement everybody laughed, and I put my handkerchief over my face and endeavored to choke the laughter that threatened to
spoil my plans, in despite of my resolutions.
"I mean she is some woman's darling," hastily amended the judge. "I am sure someone is searching for her. Poor girl, I will be good to her, for
she looks like my sister, who is dead."
There was a hush for a moment after this announcement, and the officers glanced at me more kindly, while I silently blessed the kind-hearted
judge, and hoped that any poor creatures who might be afflicted as I pretended to be should have as kindly a man to deal with as Judge Duffy.
"I wish the reporters were here," he said at last. "They would be able to find out something about her."
I got very much frightened at this, for if there is anyone who can ferret out a mystery it is a reporter. I felt that I would rather face a mass of
expert doctors, policemen, and detectives than two bright specimens of my craft, so I said:
"I don't see why all this is needed to help me find my trunks. These men are impudent, and I do not want to be stared at. I will go away. I don't
want to stay here."
So saying, I pulled down my veil and secretly hoped the reporters would be detained elsewhere until I was sent to the asylum.
"I don't know what to do with the poor child," said the worried judge. "She must be taken care of."
"Send her to the Island," suggested one of the officers.
"Oh, don't!" said Mrs. Stanard, in evident alarm. "Don't! She is a lady and it would kill her to be put on the Island."
For once I felt like shaking the good woman. To think the Island was just the place I wanted to reach and here she was trying to keep me from
going there! It was very kind of her, but rather provoking under the circumstances.

Write two or three sentences describing how Bly reacts to the judge’s questions and comments.