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The New Magdalen

Page 179

"I had only one motive for shrinking from an appearance at the

theatre--but it was strong enough to induce me to submit to any

alternative that remained, no matter how hopeless it might be. If I

showed myself on the public stage, my discovery by the man from whom

I had escaped would be only a question of time. I knew him to be

habitually a play-goer and a subscriber to a theatrical newspaper. I had

even heard him speak of the theatre to which my friend was attached,

and compare it advantageously with places of amusement of far higher

pretensions. Sooner or later, if I joined the company he would be

certain to go and see 'the new actress.' The bare thought of it

reconciled me to returning to my needle. Before I was strong enough to

endure the atmosphere of the crowded workroom I obtained permission, as

a favor, to resume my occupation at home.

"Surely my choice was the choice of a virtuous girl? And yet the day

when I returned to my needle was the fatal day of my life.

"I had now not only to provide for the wants of the passing hour--I had

my debts to pay. It was only to be done by toiling harder than ever, and

by living more poorly than ever. I soon paid the penalty, in my weakened

state, of leading such a life as this. One evening my head turned

suddenly giddy; my heart throbbed frightfully. I managed to open the

window, and to let the fresh air into the room, and I felt better. But I

was not sufficiently recovered to be able to thread my needle. I thought

to myself, 'If I go out for half an hour, a little exercise may put me

right again.' I had not, as I suppose, been out more than ten minutes

when the attack from which I had suffered in my room was renewed. There

was no shop near in which I could take refuge. I tried to ring the bell

of the nearest house door. Before I could reach it I fainted in the

street.

"How long hunger and weakness left me at the mercy of the first stranger

who might pass by, it is impossible for me to say.

"When I partially recovered my senses I was conscious of being under

shelter somewhere, and of having a wine-glass containing some cordial

drink held to my lips by a man. I managed to swallow--I don't know how

little, or how much. The stimulant had a very strange effect on me.

Reviving me at first, it ended in stupefying me. I lost my senses once

more.

"When I next recovered myself, the day was breaking. I was in a bed in

a strange room. A nameless terror seized me. I called out. Three or four

women came in, whose faces betrayed, even to my inexperienced eyes, the

shameless infamy of their lives. I started up in the bed. I implored

them to tell me where I was, and what had happened-"Spare me! I can say no more. Not long since you heard Miss Roseberry

call me an outcast from the streets. Now you know--as God is my judge

I am speaking the truth!--now you know what made me an outcast, and in

what measure I deserved my disgrace."

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