″Yes?″ said the desk sergeant, who was busy filling out a long and complicated form.
Beppo took some time to get it out. ″The thing is,″ he said at last, ″something dreadful must have happened.″
″Really?″ said the desk sergeant, still writing. ″What's it all about?″ ″It's about our Momo,″ said Beppo.
″A child?″ ″Yes, a girl.″ ″Is she yours?″ ″No,″ Beppo said, uncertainly, ″- I mean, yes, but I'm not her father.″
″No, I mean, yes!″ snapped the desk sergeant. ″Whose child is she, then? Who are her parents?″
″Nobody knows,″ said Beppo. ″Where is she registered, then?″ ″Registered?″ said Beppo.
″Well, with us, I suppose. We all know her.″ ″So she isn't registered,″ the desk sergeant said with a sigh.
″That's against the law, in case you didn't know. Who does she live with, then?″
″She lives by herself,″ Beppo replied, ″that's to say, she used to live in the old amphitheater, but she doesn't any more. She's gone.″
″Just a minute,″ said the desk sergeant. ″If I understand you correctly, the ruins have until recently been occupied by a young female vagrant named -
what did you say her name was?″ ″Momo,″ said Beppo. The policeman pulled a pad towards him and started writing. ″Momo,″ he repeated.
Well, go on: Momo what? I'll need her full name.″Momo nothing,″ said Beppo.
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