The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. . "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. “I’m sorry.
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