"Ever since the father of the child
had deserted her, she had believed all men were wicked, but this man
had been so friendly, so kindly, she thought he was different from the
others. When she found where she was, she was crazy with fear and
anger, and made a scene before she left. The next morning when she
went to work she was told her services were no longer needed, and told
in a way that made her understand she was not fit to work in the room
with other girls. The man who had charge of the room was the man she
had thought a friend. He's got his job still."
The ticking of the clock on the mantel alone broke the stillness of the
room as Mrs. Mundy stopped. I tried to say something, but words would
not come.
"For years I've heard the stories of these poor creatures." Mrs.
Mundy's even tones steadied somewhat the protesting tumult in my heart.
"For years I've known the awful side of the lives they lead. I didn't
have money or learning or influence, or the chance to make good people
understand, even if they'd been willing to hear, what I could tell, but
I could help one of them every now and then.
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