"That is the way the government finds out about all the people in the country," explained Hamilton, "their names and how old they are, what they work at and how many people they employ, the wages they pay or are paid, and all sorts of things."
The Frenchwoman's eyes had been getting bigger and rounder at every sentence, and when Hamilton had finished, she said with an air of regretful surprise:
"An' they tol' me zere was no police spy in America!"
"There isn't, so far as I know," the boy answered.
"I'm not a police spy," the boy said, a little nettled at being misunderstood.
"No? Zen zat is all ze more strange. In my country zose are ze questions ze gendarmes ask. An' if you are not policeman, why do you wear badge?" she queried, pointing to the little census shield on Hamilton's coat.
"That has nothing to do with the police," the boy insisted, "that's a census badge. Madame," he added, "do I look like a policeman?"
The Frenchwoman, remembering the military appearance of the gendarmes of her native land and the burly make-up of the American policeman, shook her head.
"Perhaps you are disguise'?" she said, with a smile.
"No, I'm not disguised," Hamilton responded, "and the badge is just to show that I have the right to ask you these questions."
"I do not know anyzing at all about it," the milliner objected, "but if you say you have ze right!" she shrugged her shoulders and sat down.
Hamilton promptly picked up his portfolio, opened it on his knee, and began to put some of the queries required. He got along well enough while the formal questions about name, address, nature of work, and so forth were in hand, but the question about the number of hours worked during the year made the woman most indignant.
"What is ze good of a question like zat?" she asked. "What does it matter if ze girls work all ze night to finish ze hat for ze gr-rand occasion, ze wedding, ze garden party? When zey work more, zey get more pay!"
"Of course," said Hamilton diplomatically, "with such a number of society people as you deal with that must happen very often."
It was a successful move. The Frenchwoman beamed on him.
"In ze season, yes, perhaps twenty or thirty evenings, but even zen ze girl go home by twelve o'clock."