1899
DEDICATED
(BY PERMISSION)
TO THE RIGHT REVEREND
HENRY CODMAN POTTER, D.D., D.C.L.
BISHOP OF NEW YORK
JANET
I
IN the doorway of an old tenement-house, far down in the slums of New York, two women were standing, their heads close together as they gossiped about the passers-by.
A young girl—she might have been thirteen—tripped along the sidewalk, kicking her legs out in front of her as she went, so that she could see her stockings.