Ladies They Talk About Page #2

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Well, Brother Slade, things change, don't they?

The deacon's daughter in jail...

and the bad boy of Benicia hymn-shouting reforms.

She got your number, Dave.

No, Nan, I'm no hymn shouter.

Just a right guy trying to persuade others to go right.

But what's happened to you? I felt pretty bad

when I heard you'd been sent to Reform School.

You were such a sweet kid.

Yeah? Well, too much deaconing took all the sweetness out of me.

It often does. How did you ever get in this jam?

Ask him.

So, you've got a reform school jilt in your pedigree, eh?

Didn't they teach you your lesson up there?

They did, but it didn't take.

I'm not any too happy, Nan, seeing you here like this.

I'm not exactly crazy about it myself.

But they've gotta pin it on somebody.

And I haven't very many friends.

I'll take care of that, if you're actually innocent.

Why, I've been straight ever since I got out

of Reform School.

Won't you believe me, David?

I'd like to. If only for old times.

They won't let me go straight.

That's why I wore that platinum wig and changed my name

so they wouldn't know me.

Oh, I can't go straight if they won't give me a chance.

I don't know whether Nan Taylor is guilty or innocent.

And neither do the police.

But I do know that she has her rights.

And the authorities are wrong to keep her in jail

without positive evidence one way or another.

Pretty tough being D.A., isn't it?

Yes, but not so tough that I want to lose the job

in next month's election.

Slade isn't doing you any good.

And that radio station of his is plenty powerful.

Yes, I know. However I think he and I

will be able to get together.

I want to be re-elected

and he wants a favor.

Nan Taylor!

District Attorney wants to speak to you.

Well, now, isn't that just too sweet?

District Attorney? The Mayor will be dropping in

to see her next.

The Governor's flying down to take her out to tea.

President Hoover called her up last night.

Yes, but she had a date with Mr. Roosevelt.

Doesn't that dame make you sick?

What she needs is a good sock in the jaw.

Why the bag, Taylor?

I've got a strange hunch I'm on my way.

So long, Spanish.

Goodbye, Twisty, see you in Paris.

This is Miss Taylor.

Please go right in, Ms. Taylor, the District Attorney's waiting.

Oh, that's all right, Mr. Simpson,

don't bother getting up.

Oh, pardon me, Ms. Taylor. Won't you be seated?

Thank you.

I'm just okaying the architect's plan for enlarging

the woman's ward in the County Jail.

Charming idea.

Yes, isn't it?

You're wasting that panorama on me, Nan.

Save it for David Slade.

Nan, you and I talk the same language.

Now, I'm absolutely convinced that you were the front

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