"And did men submit to legislation like that?" I protested.
"Why not? It was so patently for the protection of the race—of the family—of the women and children. Women were solid for it, of course—and all the best men with them. To oppose it was almost a confession of guilt and injured a man's chances of marriage."
"It used to be said that any man could find a woman to marry him," I murmured, meditatively.
"Maybe he could—once. He certainly cannot now. A man who has one of those diseases is so reported—just like small-pox, you see. Moreover, it is registered against him by the Department of Eugenics—physicians are required to send in lists; any girl can find out."
"It must have left a large proportion of unmarried women."
"It did, at first. And that very thing was of great value to the world. They were wise, conscientious, strong women, you see, and they poured all their tremendous force into social service. Lots of them went into child culture—used their mother-power that way. It wasn't easy for them; it wasn't easy for the left-over men, either!"
"It must have increased prostitution to an awful extent," I said.
Owen shook his head and regarded me quizzically.
"That is the worst of it," he said. "There isn't any."
I sat up. I stood up. I walked up and down. "No prostitution! I—I can't believe it. Why, prostitution is a social necessity, as old as Nineveh!"