"And what do you intend to do now?" I asked.
"I have my plans. I expect some one from my village who knows him and who knows that we were married. I am saving every cent I can for the steamship agency to buy a ticket."
She bent down over her work again. Meanwhile my coat was brought. I took leave, promised to look into the matter and went out.
In a few minutes I was in Greene Street. I looked up the number. Above the door hung a big sign, announcing the business of the firm, and on the door, near the knob, was nailed another little sign, with black letters on white enamel:
"Member of organised charity."
All was now clear why the woman was not helped in her fight, and why she was coerced through the "discontinuance." I remembered the Manager's answer:
"Who is supporting this institution? The poor or the rich?"
And of course they had to work for the ones that were supporting them.