Prudence had the satisfaction of hearing herself described as "the mother o' one o' Sal Brown's children," and of being threatened with personal violence by a brawny matron, who shook her fist under the poor lady's nose, and exclaimed, in an access of virtuous indignation, "I know your sort, I do," promising, if Prudence would come outside, to give her "a jolly good 'iding." At this point a policeman interfered, and conducted the terrified victim to a private room where she awaited in misery the usher's summons.
Meantime the witnesses began to collect. The various serjeants and detectives concerned in the case, the spectators of Sal Brown's war dance when she used a baby as a weapon, and others arrived singly or in groups. Amongst the rest came a workhouse matron, and an assistant in charge of the infants concerned, since in accordance with the usual procedure, the infants had been sent to the workhouse while awaiting the trial of Sal.
The matron was a portly, red-faced woman of fifty, with that brusqueness of manner acquired by officials accustomed to deal with those whom they consider their inferiors. Her friend was a pale and highly genteel
