I
know pretense when I see it." Mrs. Mundy, who was telling me of the
girl, changed her position and fixed the screen so that the flames from
the fire should not burn her face. "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. There 're few of them who
start out deliberate to live wrong. When they take it up regular it's
'most always because they're like dogs at bay. There's nothing else to
do."

"What became of Lillie when she lost her place?" I got up from the
sofa and came closer to the fire. My teeth were chattering.

"She lost her soul. She went in a factory, but the air made her sick,
and after three faints they turned her off. It interrupted the work
and made the girls lose time running to her, and so she had to go.
After a while--I was away at the time--the woman she lived with turned
her out. She owed room rent, a good deal of it, and she needed food
and clothes, and there was no money with which to buy them. It got her
crazy, the thought that because she had done wrong she was but a rag to
be kicked from place to place with only the gutter to land in at last,
and--well, she landed. But she isn't all bad. I used to feel about
girls like her just as most good people still feel, but I've come to
see there's many of them who are more sinned against than sinning. The
men who make and keep them what they are go free and are let alone."

"Couldn