In many cases, however, the court has had no chance to intervene. The girls go on and on in their lives of shame. Disease overtakes them in the end. Weakened physically by their excesses, they are unable to cope with it. Liquor and cigarettes leave tell-tale ravages.
Hopelessly battling against grim disease, the victim goes deeper and deeper into the last depths of repulsiveness. Her only hope of forgetting her affliction is in drunkenness. She loses all her womanly instincts and is a fiend. Finally liquor fails to keep her in that state of stupor in which she must remain. Cocaine and morphine are resorted to.
One day she regains consciousness. The darkness of her horrible existence enshrouds her. Remorse and recollections of her past engulf her. She realizes the futileness of her life.
Then comes the end.
Maybe it is by the aid of a bottle of chloroform; maybe a gas jet is turned on; maybe there is the lifeless body of an "unknown" woman taken from the waters of Lake Michigan the next morning.
There are no tears wasted. A shrug of the shoulders on the part of the owner of the resort—probably he swears a bit when her name is mentioned. He hates to have such things happen to girls in his place, because "people might think that he is hard with people."
The murderer goes to the gallows with the priest and minister at his side. He is given his chance of repentance. He is given religious consolation.
To the fallen woman—once pure and innocent—dragged to her shame through her innocence—is held out no comfort. She is not given the opportunity to repent. She is a thing, repellant and abhorred. The very mention of her name brings a derisive laugh. No masses are said for the repose of her soul. Religious consolation is not to be thought of.
Her obituary is the notice, hidden among the advertisements of the local newspapers.