Sol Greenbaum shook his head. "The law knows no tomorrow," he said gravely. "Personally I'd like to let you off but it's my duty to handle this little matter in all fairness to Madame Papillon. She's the injured party."
Into Minnie's eyes crept a look of horrified realization. "What're you going to do to me?" she cried, growing very pale, "you ain't goin' to arrest me?"
Mrs. Flynn rushed for Minnie, putting her arms around her. "Oh, my God, my God!" she wailed, "go get papa, quick!"
Sol Greenbaum raised a protesting hand. "No need of carrying on, folks," he told them. "Just be calm and sensible. I'm not here to arrest anybody. I merely came to collect money on the merchandise purchased at Madame Papillon's shop, or take it away."
Minnie glanced at him apprehensively, "You don't mean that you intend to take 'em away, all of 'em?" she asked.
He nodded.
"That afternoon dress an' everything?"
"If you can't pay me any money I've got to hold them until they have been paid for. Clothes are perishable merchandise. If you've worn them you can see for yourself that Madame Papillon couldn't get them off her hands. There's no call in a shop like that for second-hand stuff."
"Well, you can't have them!" cried Minnie with sudden defiance. "I need them and I won't let them go. Do you understand that? I won't let them go!"
Sol Greenbaum looked calmly from mother to daughter as he put his notebook and the contract Minnie had signed with Madame Papillon back into his pocket. Then deliberately buttoning his overcoat, he reached for his hat and gloves, wished them a pleasant good afternoon, and started for the door.
