Tales of the City Room
friend, protestingly. She drew her dark brows together in a frown, then went on quickly.
"That is n't all. It is n't even the beginning. Here is the situation, impartially put. A woman (young, and clever, and charming, I grant you) comes to us from nowhere. Her life, so far as we are concerned, apparently began the day we met her. None of us has heard a word from her of home, or parents, or friends. None of us knows where she came from, or what or who she is. Before we realized what this might imply we became fond of her, as you say. Insensibly she grew into our affections and our lives. We asked her no questions and she volunteered no information. After this condition has been existing for several months we discover that she is a marked woman in our profession,—that she is credited with a past,—that her reserve, reticence, and gayety are making her talked about,—and that we are coming in for some share of the—the—well, feeling that exists about her. Now, if this is so, are we held to her by our friendly interest? If we knew she was all right it
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