death, but these things at first are hidden from her sight.

The profession of a prostitute is the only career in which the maximum
income is paid to the newest apprentice. It is the one calling in
which at the beginning the only exertion is that of self-indulgence;
all the prizes are at the commencement. It is the ever new embodiment
of the old fable of the sale of the soul to the Devil. The tempter
offers wealth, comfort, excitement, but in return the victim must sell
her soul, nor does the other party forget to exact his due to the
uttermost farthing. Human nature, however, is short-sighted.
Giddy girls, chafing against the restraints of uncongenial industry,
see the glittering bait continually before them. They are told that if
they will but "do as others do" they will make more in a night, if they
are lucky, than they can make in a week at their sewing; and who can
wonder that in many cases the irrevocable step is taken before they
realise that it is irrevocable, and that they have bartered away the
future of their lives for the paltry chance of a year's ill-gotten
gains?

Of the severity of the punishment there can be no question. If the
premium is high at the beginning, the penalty is terrible at the close.
And this penalty is exacted equally from those who have deliberately
said, "Evil, be thou my Good," and for those who have been decoyed,
snared, trapped into the life which is a living death. When you see a
girl on the street you can never say without enquiry whether she is one
of the most-to-be condemned, or the most-to-be pitied of her sex.
Many of them find themselves where they are because of a too trusting
disposition, confidence born of innocence being often the unsuspecting
ally of the procuress and seducer. Others are as much the innocent
victims of crime as if they had been stabbed or maimed by the dagger of