(Lady John lays her hand on Miss Levering's shoulder.)
Miss L. Perhaps after all he did. (With sudden change of tone.) Why do I waste time over myself? I belonged to the little class of armed women. My body wasn't born weak, and my spirit wasn't broken by the habit of slavery. But, as Mrs. Heriot was kind enough to hint, I do know something about the possible fate of homeless girls. I found there were pleasant parks, museums, free libraries in our great rich London—and not one single place where destitute women can be sure of work that isn't killing or food that isn't worse than prison fare. That's why women ought not to sleep o' nights till this Shelter stands spreading out wide arms.
Jean. No, no——
Mrs. H. (gathering up her gloves, fan, prayer-book, &c.). Even when it's built—you'll see! Many of those creatures will prefer the life they lead. They like it.
Miss L. A woman told me—one of the sort that knows—told me many of them "like it" so much that they are indifferent to the risk of being sent to prison. "It gives them a rest," she said.
Lady John. A rest!
(Miss Levering glances at the clock as she rises to go upstairs.)
(Lady John and Mrs. Heriot bend their heads over the plan, covertly talking.)
Jean (intercepting Miss Levering). I want to begin to understand something of—I'm horribly ignorant.
Miss L. (Looks at her searchingly). I'm a rather busy person——
Jean. (interrupting). I have a quite special reason for wanting not to be ignorant. (Impulsively). I'll go to town to-morrow, if you'll come and lunch with me.