"Oh, yes, I replied, perfectly. Some poor unfortunate woman, with a miserable, drunken husband, has been driven by necessity, probably to take up her abode in some house of sin, where she finds her life miserable, and is anxious to escape; I suppose that is it."
"Anxious to escape! Why, sir, you confuse me worse than ever. No one is obliged to stay in such houses, are they? If she wished to go away, she could go; it is her own sinful choice that she is there."
"Friend Lovetree, how long have you lived out West?"
"Well, some twenty-five years, I suppose. You have a short way of turning a corner. Was I talking anything about the West?"
"No. Twenty-five years. This city has changed some in that time, and you have got behind the times. You don't know as much as this little girl about this matter. Ask her."
"How is it little girl—what did you tell me was your name?"
"Stella, sir, Stella May."
"Well then Stella, what is to hinder this Mrs. Morgan from coming away if she wishes?"
"Because she is in debt, sir."
"Debt, sir, debt! do private citizens imprison their fellows for debt? Are women compelled to live in houses of prostitution in this city, a city where the Bible is read and gospel preached, against their will? Preposterous, I will not believe it."