"A girl does feel that way at first.A girl that marries as most of them do--because the old ones are pushing her out of the nest and she's got no place else to go--she feels the same way till she hardens to it.Of course, you've got to get broke into any business.""Go on," said Susan eagerly."You are so sensible.You must teach me.""Common sense is a thing you don't often hear--especially about getting on in the world.But, as I was saying--one of my gentlemen friends is a lawyer--such a nice fellow--so liberal.
Gives me a present of twenty or twenty-five extra, you understand--every time he makes a killing downtown.He asked me once how I felt when I started in; and when I told him, he said, `That's exactly the way I felt the first time I won a case for a client I knew was a dirty rascal and in the wrong.
But now--I take that sort of thing as easy as you do.' He says the thing is to get on, no matter how, and that one way's as good as another.And he's mighty right.You soon learn that in little old New York, where you've got to have the mon.or you get the laugh and the foot--the swift, hard kick.Clean up after you've arrived, he says--and don't try to keep clean while you're working--and don't stop for baths and things while you're at the job."Susan was listening with every faculty she possessed.
"He says he talks the other sort of thing--the dope--the fake stuff--just as the rest of the hustlers do.He says it's necessary in order to keep the people fooled--that if they got wise to the real way to succeed, then there'd be nobody to rob and get rich off of.Oh, he's got it right.He's a smart one."The sad, bitter expression was strong in Susan's face.
After a pause, Ida went on: "If a girl's an ignorant fool or squeamish, she don't get up in this business any more than in any other.But if she keeps a cool head, and don't take lovers unless they pay their way, and don't drink, why she can keep her self-respect and not have to take to the streets."Susan lifted her head eagerly."Don't have to take to the streets?" she echoed.
"Certainly not," declared Ida."I very seldom let a man pick me up after dark--unless he looks mighty good.I go out in the daytime.I pretend I'm an actress out of a job for the time being, or a forelady in a big shop who's taking a day or so off, or a respectable girl living with her parents.I put a lot of money into clothes--quiet, ladylike clothes.Mighty good investment.If you ain't got clothes in New York you can't do any kind of business.I go where a nice class of men hangs out, and I never act bold, but just flirt timidly, as so many respectable girls or semi-respectables do.But when a girl plays that game, she has to be careful not to make a man think he ain't expected to pay.The town's choked full of men on the lookout for what they call love--which means, for something cheap or, better still, free.Men are just crazy about themselves.Nothing easier than to fool 'em--and nothing's harder than to make 'em think you ain't stuck on 'em.
I tell you, a girl in our life has a chance to learn men.They turn themselves inside out to us."Susan, silent, her thoughts flowing like a mill race, helped Ida with the dishes.Then they dressed and went together for a walk.It being Sunday evening, the streets were quiet.They sauntered up Fifth Avenue as far as Fifty-ninth Street and back.Ida's calm and sensible demeanor gave Susan much needed courage every time a man spoke to them.None of these men happened to be up to Ida's standard, which was high.
"No use wasting time on snide people," explained she."We don't want drinks and a gush of loose talk, and I saw at a glance that was all those chappies were good for."They returned home at half-past nine without adventure.Toward midnight one of Ida's regulars called and Susan was free to go to bed.She slept hardly at all.Ever before her mind hovered a nameless, shapeless horror.And when she slept she dreamed of her wedding night, woke herself screaming, "Please, Mr.
Ferguson--please!"
Ida had three chief sources of revenue.
The best was five men--her "regular gentleman friends"--who called by appointment from time to time.These paid her ten dollars apiece, and occasionally gave her presents of money or jewelry--nothing that amounted to much.From them she averaged about thirty-five dollars a week.Her second source was a Mrs.
Thurston who kept in West Fifty-sixth Street near Ninth Avenue a furnished-room house of the sort that is on the official--and also the "revenue"--lists of the police and the anti-vice societies.This lady had a list of girls and married women upon whom she could call.Gentlemen using her house for rendezvous were sometimes disappointed by the ladies with whom they were intriguing.Again a gentleman grew a little weary of his perhaps too respectable or too sincerely loving ladylove and appealed to Mrs.Thurston.She kept her list of availables most select and passed them off as women of good position willing to supplement a small income, or to punish stingy husbands or fathers and at the same time get the money they needed for dress and bridge, for matinees and lunches.Mrs.
Thurston insisted--and Ida was inclined to believe--that there were genuine cases of this kind on the list.
