Damaged Goods..................................................................................................................................................1

Upton Sinclair..........................................................................................................................................1

PREFACE ................................................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER I .............................................................................................................................................5

CHAPTER II ..........................................................................................................................................12

CHAPTER III........................................................................................................................................23

CHAPTER IV........................................................................................................................................31

CHAPTER V.........................................................................................................................................45

CHAPTER VI........................................................................................................................................53

My endeavor has been to tell a simple story, preserving as closely as possible the spirit and feeling of the

original. I have tried, as it were, to take the play to pieces, and build a novel out of the same material. I have

not felt at liberty to embellish M. Brieux's ideas, and I have used his dialogue word for word wherever

possible. Unless I have misread the author, his sole purpose in writing LES AVARIES was to place a

number of most important facts before the minds of the public, and to drive them home by means of intense

emotion. If I have been able to assist him, this bit of literary carpentering will be worth while. I have to thank

M. Brieux for his kind permission to make the attempt, and for the cordial spirit which he has manifested.

DAMAGED GOODS was first presented in America at a Friday matinee on March 14th, 1913, in the Fulton

Theater, New York, before members of the Sociological Fund. Immediately it was acclaimed by public press

and pulpit as the greatest contribution ever made by the Stage to the cause of humanity. Mr. Richard Bennett,

the producer, who had the courage to present the play, with the aid of his coworkers, in the face of most

savage criticism from the ignorant, was overwhelmed with requests for a repetition of the performance.

Before deciding whether of not to present DAMAGED GOODS before the general public, it was arranged

that the highest officials in the United States should pass judgment upon the manner in which the play teaches

its vital lesson. A special guest performance for members of the Cabinet, members of both houses of

Congress, members of the United States Supreme Court, representatives of the Diplomatic corps and others

Although the performance was given on a Sunday afternoon (April 6, 1913), the National Theater was

crowded to the very doors with the most distinguished audience ever assembled in America, including

exclusively the foremost men and women of the Capital. The most noted clergymen of Washington were

The result of this remarkable performance was a tremendous endorsement of the play and of the manner in

This reception resulted in the continuance of the New York performances until midsummer and is

responsible for the decision on the part of Mr. Bennett to offer the play in every city in America where

citizens feel that the ultimate welfare of the community is dependent upon a higher standard of morality and

The play was presented with all the impressiveness of a sermon; with all the vigor and dynamic force of a

In many respects the presentation of this dramatization of a great social evil assumed the aspects of a

religious service. Dr. Donald C. Macleod, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, mounted the rostrum

usually occupied by the leader of the orchestra, and announced that the nature of the performance, the

sacredness of the play, and the character of the audience gave to the play the significance of a tremendous

sermon in behalf of mankind, and that as such it was eminently fitting that a divine blessing be invoked. Dr.

Earle Wilfley, pastor of the Vermont Avenue Christian Church, asked all persons in the audience to bow their

heads in a prayer for the proper reception of the message to be presented from the stage. Dr. MacLeod then

read the Bernard Shaw preface to the play, and asked that there be no applause during the performance, a

suggestion which was rigidly followed, thus adding greatly to the effectiveness and the seriousness of the

The impression made upon the audience by the remarkable play is reflected in such comments as the

pulpit a sermon one tenth as powerful, as convincing, as farreaching, and as helpful as this performance of

DAMAGED GOODS must be, I would consider that I had achieved the triumph of my life.

COMMISSIONER CUNO H. RUDOLPHI was deeply impressed by what I saw, and I think that the

drama should be repeated in every city, a matinee one day for father and son and the next day for mother and

REV. EARLE WILFLEYI am confirmed in the opinion that we must take up our cudgels in a crusade

against the modern problems brought to the fore by DAMAGED GOODS. The report that these diseases are

SURGEON GENERAL BLUEIt was a most striking and telling lesson. For years we have been fighting

these condition in the navy. It is high time that civilians awakened to the dangers surrounding them and

MRS. ARCHIBALD HOPKINSThe play was a powerful presentation of a very important question and

was handled in a most admirable manner. The drama is a fine entering wedge for this crusade and is bound to

MINISTER PEZET, OF PERUThere can be no doubt but that the performance will have great uplifting

power, and accomplish the good for which it was created. Fortunately, we do not have the prudery in South

America that you of the north possess, and have open minds to consider these serious questions.

JUSTICE DANIEL THEW WRIGHTI feel quite sure that DAMAGED GOODS will have considerable

SENATOR KERN, OF INDIANAThere can be no denial of the fact that it is time to look at the serious

Brieux has been hailed by Bernard Shaw as "incomparably the greatest writer France has produced since

Moliere," and perhaps no writer ever wielded his pen more earnestly in the service of the race. To quote from

Brieux in not one who believes that social evils are to be cured by laws and yet more laws. He believes that

most of the trouble is caused by ignorance and urges education, public enlightenment and franker recognition

of existing conditions. All this may be needed, but still we may well doubt its effectiveness as a remedy. The

drunken Helot argument is not a strong one, and those who lead a vicious life know more about its risks than

any teacher or preacher could tell them. Brieux also urges the requirement of health certificates for marriage,

such as many clergymen now insist upon and which doubtless will be made compulsory before long in many

Brieux paints in black colors yet is no fanatic; in fact, he will be criticised by many as being too tolerant of

human weakness. The conditions of society and the moral standards of France are so different from those of

America that his point of view and his proposals for reform will not meet with general acceptance, but it is

encouraging to find a dramatist who realizes the importance of being earnest and who uses his art in defense

Other comments follow, showing the great interest manifested in the play and the belief in the highest

There is no uncleanness in facts. The uncleanness is in the glamour, in the secret imagination. It is in hints,

This play puts the horrible truth in so living a way, with such clean, artistic force, that the mind is impressed

Best of all, it is the physician who dominates the action. There is no sentimentalizing. There is no weak and

morbid handling of the theme. The doctor appears in his ideal function, as the modern highpriest of truth.

Around him writhe the victims of ignorance and the criminals of conventional cruelty. Kind, stern,

This is as it should be. The man to say the word to save the world of ignorant wretches, cursed by the clouds

and darkness a mistaken modesty has thrown around a lifeanddeath instinct, is the physician.

The only question is this: Is this play decent? My answer is that it is the decentest play that has been in New

The play is, above all, a powerful plea for the tearing away of the veil of mystery that has so universally

shrouded this subject of the penalty of sexual immorality. It is a plea for light on this hidden danger, that

fathers and mothers, young men and young women, may know the terrible price that must be paid, not only

by the generation that violates the law, but by the generations to come. It is a serious question just how the

education of men and women, especially young men and young women, in the vital matters of sex

relationship should be carried on. One thing is sure, however. The worst possible way is the one which has so

It (DAMAGED GOODS) is, of course, a masterpiece of "thesis drama,"an argument, dogmatic, insistent,

inescapable, cumulative, between science and common sense, on one side, and love, of various types, on the

other. It is what Mr. Bernard Shaw has called a "drama of discussion"; it has the splendid movement of the

best Shaw plays, unrelievedand undilutedby Shavian paradox, wit, and irony. We imagine that many

audiences at the Fulton Theater were astonished at the play's showing of sheer strength as acted drama.

Possibly it might not interest the general public; probably it would be inadvisable to present it to them. But no

thinking person, with the most casual interest in current social evils, could listen to the version of Richard

Bennett, Wilton Lackaye, and their associates, without being gripped by the power of Brieux's message.

It is a wonder that the world has been so long in getting hold of this play, which is one of France's most

valuable contributions to the drama. Its history is interesting. Brieux wrote it over ten years ago. Antoine

produced it at his theater and Paris immediately censored it, but soon thought better of it and removed the

ban. During the summer of 1910 it was played in Brussels before crowded houses, for then the city was

thronged with visitors to the exposition. Finally New York got it last spring and eugenic enthusiasts and

During the past twentyone years since I entered public life, I have experienced many exciting hours under

the influence of reformer, orator and actor, but, in this mood of retrospection, I do not know that I have ever

passed through a more thrilling, terrible, and yet hopeful experience than last evening, while I listened to your

I have been following your work with ever deepening interest. It is not too much to say that you have

changed the thinking of the people of our country as to the social evil. At last, thank God, this conspiracy of

silence is ended. No young man who sees "Damaged Goods" will ever be the same again. If I wanted to build

around an innocent boy buttresses of fire and granite, and lend him triple armour against temptation and the

assaults of evil, I would put him for one evening under your influence. That which the teacher, the preacher

and the parent have failed to accomplish it has been given to you to achieve. You have done a work for which

I shall be delighted to have you use my Study of Social Diseases and Heredity in connection with your great

It was four o'clock in the morning when George Dupont closed the door and came down the steps to the

street. The first faint streaks of dawn were in the sky, and he noticed this with annoyance, because he knew

that his hair was in disarray and his while aspect disorderly; yet he dared not take a cab, because he feared to

attract attention at home. When he reached the sidewalk, he glanced about him to make sure that no one had

seen him leave the house, then started down the street, his eyes upon the sidewalk before him.

George had the feeling of the morning after. There are few men in this world of abundant sin who will not

know what the phrase means. The fumes of the night had evaporated; he was quite sober now, quite free from

excitement. He saw what he had done, and it seemed to him something black and disgusting.

Never had a walk seemed longer than the few blocks which he had to traverse to reach his home. He must get

there before the maid was up, before the baker's boy called with the rolls; otherwise, what explanation could

he give?he who had always been such a moral man, who had been pointed out by mothers as an example

George thought of his own mother, and what she would think if she could know about his night's adventure.

He thought again and again, with a pang of anguish, of Henriette. Could it be possible that a man who was

engaged, whose marriage contract had actually been signed, who was soon to possess the love of a beautiful

and noble girlthat such a man could have been weak enough and base enough to let himself be trapped into

He went back over the whole series of events, shuddering at them, trying to realize how they had happened,

trying to excuse himself for them. He had not intended such a culmination; he had never meant to do such a

thing in his life. He had not thought of any harm when he had accepted the invitation to the supper party with

his old companions from the law school. Of course, he had known that several of these chums led "fast"

livesbut, then, surely a fellow could go to a friend's rooms for a lark without harm!

He remembered the girl who had sat by his side at the table. She had come with a friend who was a married

woman, and so he had assumed that she was all right. George remembered how embarrassed he had been

when first he had noticed her glances at him. But then the wine had begun to go to his headhe was one of

those unfortunate wretches who cannot drink wine at all. He had offered to take the girl home in a cab, and on

Oh! What a wretched thing it was. He could hardly believe that it was he who had spoken those frenzied

words; and yet he must have spoken them, because he remembered them. He remembered that it had taken a

long time to persuade her. He had had to promise her a ring like the one her married friend wore. Before they

entered her home she had made him take off his shoes, so that the porter might not hear them. This had struck

George particularly, because, even flushed with excitement as he was, he had not forgotten the warnings his

father had given him as to the dangers of contact with strange women. He had thought to himself, "This girl

But now George could get but little consolation out of that idea. He was suffering intenselythe emotion

described by the poet in the bitter words about "Time's moving finger having writ." His mind, seeking some

explanation, some justification, went back to the events before that night. With a sudden pang of yearning, he

thought of Lizette. She was a decent girl, and had kept him decent, and he was lonely without her. He had

been so afraid of being found out that he had given her up when he became engaged; but now for a while he

felt that he would have to break his resolution, and pay his regular Sunday visit to the little flat in the

It was while George was fitting himself for the same career as his fatherthat of notarythat he had made

the acquaintance of the young working girl. It may not be easy to believe, but Lizette had really been a decent

girl. She had a family to take care of, and was in need. There was a grandmother in poor health, a father not

much better, and three little brothers; so Lizette did not very long resist George Dupont, and he felt quite

virtuous in giving her sufficient money to take care of these unfortunate people. Among people of his class it

All the family of this working girl were grateful to him. They adored him, and they called him Uncle Raoul

Since George was paying for Lizette, he felt he had the tight to control her life. He gave her fair warning

concerning his attitude. If she deceived him he would leave her immediately. He told this to her relatives also,

and so he had them all watching her. She was never trusted out alone. Every Sunday George went to spend

the day with his little "family," so that his coming became almost a matter of tradition. He interested her in

church affairsmass and vespers were her regular occasions for excursions. George rented two seats, and

the grandmother went with her to the services. The simple people were proud to see their name engraved

The reason for all these precautions was George's terror of disease. He had been warned by his father as to

the dangers which young men encounter in their amours. And these lessons had sunk deep into George's

heart; he had made up his mind that whatever his friends might do, he, for one, would protect himself.

That did not mean, of course, that he intended to live a virtuous life; such was the custom among young men

of his class, not had it probably ever occurred to his father that it was possible for a young man to do such a

thing. The French have a phrase, "l'homme moyen sensuel"the average sensual man. And George was such

a man. He had no noble idealisms, no particular reverence for women. The basis of his attitude was a purely

selfish one; he wanted to enjoy himself, and at the same time to keep out of trouble.

He did not find any happiness in the renunciation which he imposed upon himself; he had no religious ideas

about it. On the contrary, he suffered keenly, and was bitter because he had no share in the amusements of his

friends. He stuck to his work and forced himself to keep regular hours, preparing for his law examinations.

But all the time he was longing for adventures. And, of course, this could not go on forever, for the motive of

fear alone is not sufficient to subdue the sexual urge in a full blooded young man.

The affair with Lizette might have continued much longer had it not been for the fact that his father died. He

died quite suddenly, while George was away on a trip. The son came back to console his brokenhearted

mother, and in the two week they spent in the country together the mother broached a plan to him. The last

wish of the dying man had been that his son should be fixed in life. In the midst of his intense suffering he

had been able to think about the matter, and had named the girl whom he wished George to marry. Naturally,

George waited with some interest to learn who this might be. He was surprised when his mother told him that

He could not keep his emotion from revealing itself in his face. "It doesn't please you?" asked his mother,

"Yes, I know," said George; "but then she is my cousin, and" He blushed a little with embarrassment. "I

Madame Dupont laid her hand upon her son's. "Yes, George," she said tenderly. "I know. You are such a

Now, of course, George did not feel that he was quite such a good boy; but his mother was a deeply religious

woman, who had no idea of the truth about the majority of men. She would never have got over the shock if

he had told her about himself, and so he had to pretend to be just what she thought him.

"Tell me," she continued, after a pause, "have you never felt the least bit in love?"

"Why noI don't think so," George stammered, becoming conscious of a sudden rise of temperature in his

"Because," said his mother, "it is really time that you were settled in life. Your father said that we should

have seen to it before, and now it is my duty to see to it. It is not good for you to live alone so long."

"Some day the Lord may take me away," was the reply. "I am getting old. And, George, dear" Here

suddenly her voice began to tremble with feeling "I would like to see my baby grandchildren before I go.

Madame Dupont saw how much this subject distressed her son, so she went on to the more worldly aspects of

the matter. Henriette's father was welltodo, and he would give her a good dowry. She was a charming and

accomplished girl. Everybody would consider him most fortunate if the match could be arranged. Also, there

was an elderly aunt to whom Madame Dupont had spoken, and who was much taken with the idea. She

George did not see just how he could object to this proposition, even if he had wanted to. What reason could

he give for such a course? He could not explain that he already had a familywith stepchildren, so to speak,

who adored him. And what could he say to his mother's obsession, to which she came back again and

againher longing to see her grandchildren before she died? Madame Dupont waited only long enough for

George to stammer out a few protestations, and then in the next breath to take them back; after which she

proceeded to go ahead with the match. The family lawyers conferred together, and the terms of the settlement

were worked out and agreed upon. It happened that immediately afterwards George learned of an opportunity

to purchase the practice of a notary, who was ready to retire from business in two months' time. Henriette's

Thus George was safely started upon the same career as his father, and this was to him a source of

satisfaction which he did not attempt to deny, either to himself of to any one else. George was a cautious

young man, who came of a frugal and saving stock. He had always been taught that it was his primary duty to

make certain of a reasonable amount of comfort. From his earliest days, he had been taught to regard material

success as the greatest goal in life, and he would never have dreamed of engaging himself to a girl without

money. But when he had the good fortune to meet one who possessed desirable personal qualities in addition

to money, he was not in the least barred from appreciating those qualities. They were, so to speak, the sauce

which went with the meat, and it seemed to him that in this case the sauce was of the very best.

Georgea big fellow of twentysix, with large, round eyes and a goodnatured countenancewas full

blooded, well fed, with a hearty laugh which spoke of unimpaired contentment, a soul untroubled in its deeps.

He seemed to himself the luckiest fellow in the whole round world; he could not think what he had done to

deserve the good fortune of possessing such a girl as Henriette. He was ordinarily of a somewhat sentimental

turn easily influenced by women and sensitive to their charms. Moreover, his relationship with Lizette had

softened him. He had learned to love the young working girl, and now Henriette, it seemed, was to reap the

In fact, he found himself always with memories of Lizette in his relationships with the girl who was to be his

wife. When the engagement was announced, and he claimed his first kiss from his bridetobe, as he placed

a ring upon her finger, he remembered the first time he had kissed Lizette, and a double blush suffused his

round countenance. When he walked arm and arm with Henriette in the garden he remembered how he had

walked just so with the other girl, and he was interested to compare the words of the two. He remembered

what a good time had had when he had taken Lizette and her little family for a picnic upon one of the

excursion steamers which run down the River Seine. Immediately he decided that he would like to take

Henriette on such a picnic, and he persuaded an aunt of Henriette's to go with her as a chaperon. George took

Thus he was always haunted by memories, some of which made him cheerful and some of which made him

mildly sad. He soon got used to the idea, and did not find it awkward, except when he had to suppress the

impulse to tell Henriette something which Lizette had said, or some funny incident which had happened in

the home of the little family. Sometimes he found himself thinking that it was a shame to have to suppress

these impulses. There must be something wrong, he thought, with a social system which made it necessary

for him to hide a thing which was so obvious and so sensible. Here he was, a man twentysix years of age; he

could not have afforded to marry earlier, not could he, as he thought, have been expected to lead a continent

life. And he had really loved Lizette; she was really a good girl. Yet, if Henriette had got any idea of it, she

would have been horrified and indignant she might even have broken off the engagement.

And then, too, there was Henriette's father, a personage of great dignity and importance. M. Loches was a

deputy of the French Parliament, from a district in the provinces. He was a man of upright life, and a man

who made a great deal of that upright lifekeeping it on a pedestal where everyone might observe it. It was

impossible to imagine M. Loches in an undignified or compromising situationsuch as the younger man

The more he thought about it the more nervous and anxious George became. Then it was decided it would be

necessary for him to break with the girl, and be "good" until the time of his marriage. Dear little softeyed

Lizettehe did not dare to face her personally; he could never bear to say goodby, he felt. Instead, he went

to the father, who as a man could be expected to understand the situation. George was embarrassed and not a

little nervous about it; for although he had never misrepresented his attitude to the family, one could never

feel entirely free from the possibility of blackmail in such cases. However, Lizette's father behaved decently,

and was duly grateful for the moderate sum of money which George handed him in parting. He promised to

break the news gently to Lizette, and George went away with his mind made up that he would never see her

This resolution he kept, and he considered himself very virtuous in doing it. But the truth was that he had

grown used to intimacy with a woman, and was restless without it. And that, he told himself, was why he

He paid for the misadventure liberally in remorse. He felt that he had been a wretch, that he had disgraced

himself forever, that he had proved himself unworthy of the pure girl he was to marry. So keen was his

feeling that it was several days before he could bring himself to see Henriette again; and when he went, it was

with a mind filled with a brandnew set of resolutions. It was the last time that he would ever fall into error.

He would be a new man from then on. He thanked God that there was no chance of his sin being known, that

So intense were his feelings that he could not help betraying a part of them to Henriette. They sat in the

garden one soft summer evening, with Henriette's mother occupied with her crocheting at a decorous

distance. George, in reverent and humble mood, began to drop vague hints that he was really unworthy of his

bridetobe. He said that he had not always been as good as he should have been; he said that her purity and

sweetness had awakened in him new ideals; so that he felt his old life had been full of blunders. Henriette, of

course, had but the vaguest of ideas as to what the blunders of a tender and generous young man like George

might be. So she only loved him the more for his humility, and was flattered to have such a fine effect upon

him, to awaken in him such moods of exaltation. When he told her that all men were bad, and that no man

was worthy of such a beautiful love, she was quite ravished, and wiped away tears from her eyes.

It would have been a shame to spoil such a heavenly mood by telling the real truth. Instead, George contented

himself with telling of the new resolutions he had formed. After all, they were the things which really

It seemed to George a most wonderful thing, this innocence of a young girl, which enabled her to move

through a world of wickedness with unpolluted mind. It was a touching thing; and also, as a prudent young

man could not help realizing, a most convenient thing. He realized the importance of preserving it, and

thought that if he ever had a daughter, he would protect her as rigidly as Henriette had been protected. He

made haste to shy off from the subject of his "badness" and to turn the conversation with what seemed a

"If I am going to be so good," he said, "don't forget that you will have to be good also!"

"You will have to try hard," he persisted. "You will find that you have a very jealous husband."

"Will I?" said Henriette, beaming with happinessfor when a woman is very much in love she doesn't in the

And immediately he felt ashamed of himself for his jest. There could be no need to watch Henriette, and it

was bad taste even to joke about it at such a time. That was one of the ideas which he had brought with him

The truth was, however, that George would always be a suspicious husband; nothing could ever change that

fact, for there was something in his own conscience which he could not get out, and which would make it

impossible for him to be at ease as a married man. It was the memory of something which had happened

earlier in his life before he met Lizette. There had been one earlier experience, with the wife of his dearest

friend. She had been much younger than her husband, and had betrayed an interest in George, who had

yielded to the temptation. For several years the intrigue continued, and George considered it a good solution

of a young man's problem. There had been no danger of contamination, for he knew that his friend was a man

of pure and rigid morals, a jealous man who watched his wife, and did not permit her to contract those new

relations which are always dangerous. As for George, he helped in this worthy work, keeping the woman in

terror of some disease. He told her that almost all men were infected, for he hoped by this means to keep her

I am aware that this may seem a dreadful story. As I do not want anyone to think too ill of George Dupont, I

ought, perhaps, to point out that people feel differently about these matters in France. In judging the

unfortunate young man, we must judge him by the customs of his own country, and not by ours. In France,

they are accustomed to what is called the MARIAGE DE CONVENANCE. The young girl is not permitted

to go about and make her own friends and decide which one of them she prefers for her husband; on the

contrary, she is strictly guarded, her training often is of a religious nature, and her marriage is a matter of

business, to be considered and decided by her parents and those of the young man. Now, whatever we may

think right, it is humanly certain that where marriages are made in that way, the need of men and women for

sympathy and for passionate interest will often lead to the forming of irregular relationships after marriage. It

is not possible to present statistics as to the number of such irregular relationships in Parisian society; but in

the books which he read and in the plays which he saw, George found everything to encourage him to think

that it was a romantic and delightful thing to keep up a secret intrigue with the wife of his best friend.

It should also, perhaps, be pointed out that we are here telling the truth, and the while truth, about George

Dupont; and that it is not customary to tell this about men, either in real life or in novels. There is a great deal

of concealment in the world about matters of sex; and in such matters the truthtelling man is apt to suffer in

Nor had George really been altogether callous about the thing. It had happened that his best friend had died in

his arms; and this had so affected the guilty pair that they had felt their relationship was no longer possible.

She had withdrawn to nurse her grief alone, and George had been so deeply affected that he had avoided

All this was now in the far distant past, but it had made a deeper impression upon George than he perhaps

realized, and it was now working in his mind and marring his happiness. Here was a girl who loved him with

a noble and unselfish and wholehearted loveand yet he would never be able to trust her as she deserved,

but would always have suspicions lurking in the back of his mind. He would be unable to have his friends

intimate in his home, because of the memory of what he had once done to a friend. It was a subtle kind of

punishment. But so it is that Nature often finds ways of punishing us, without our even being aware of it.

That was all for the future, however. At present, George was happy. He put his black sin behind him, feeling

that he had obtained absolution by his confession to Henriette. Day by day, as he realized his good fortune,

He went for a little trip to Henriette's home in the country. It was a simple village, and they took walks in the

country, and stopped to refresh themselves at a farmhouse occupied by one of M. Loches' tenants. Here was a

rosy and buxom peasant woman, with a nursing child in her arms. She was destined a couple of years later to

be the fostermother of Henriette's little girl and to play an important part in her life. But the pair had no idea

of that at present. They simply saw a proud and happy mother, and Henriette played with the baby, giving

vent to childish delight. Then suddenly she looked up and saw that George was watching her, and as she read

As for George, he turned away and went out under the blue sky in a kind of ecstasy. Life seemed very

wonderful to him just then; he had found its supreme happiness, which was love. He was really getting quite

mad about Henriette, he told himself. He could hardly believe that the day was coming when he would be

But in the blue sky of George's happiness there was one little cloud of storm. As often happens with

He noted upon his body one day a tiny ulcer. At first he treated it with salve purchased from an apothecary.

Then after a week or two, when this had no effect, he began to feel uncomfortable. He remembered suddenly

he had heard about the symptoms of an unmentionable, dreadful disease, and a vague terror took possession

For days he tried to put it to one side. The idea was nonsense, it was absurd in connection with a woman so

respectable! But the thought would not be put away, and finally he went to a school friend, who was a man of

the world, and got him to talk on the subject. Of course, George had to be careful, so that his friend should

The friend was willing to talk. It was a vile disease, he said; but one was foolish to bother about it, because it

was so rare. There were other diseases which fellows got, which nearly every fellow had, and to which none

of them paid any attention. But one seldom met anyone who had the red plague that George dreaded.

"And yet," he added, "according to the books, it isn't so uncommon. I suppose the truth is that people hide it.

"Of course," said the other, "Should you want to have anything to do with a person who had it? Should you

be willing to room with him or travel with him? You wouldn't even want to shake hands with him!"

"I remember," continued the other, "an old fellow who used to live out in the country near me. He was not so

very old, either, but he looked it. He had to be pushed around in a wheelchair. People said he had locomotor

ataxia, but that really meant syphilis. We boys used to poke all kinds of fun at him because one windy day his

hat and his wig were blown off together, and we discovered that he was as bald as an egg. We used to make

jokes about his automobile, as we called it. It had a little handle in front, instead of a steeringwheel, and a

"I remember the poor devil had a paralysis soon after," continued the friend, quite carelessly. "He could not

steer any more, and also he lost his voice. When you met him he would look at you as it he thought he was

George went away from this conversation in a cold sweat. He told himself over and over again that he was a

fool, but still he could not get the hellish idea out of his mind. He found himself brooding over it all day and

lying awake at night, haunted by images of himself in a wheelchair, and without any hair on his head. He

realized that the sensible thing would be for him to go to a doctor and make certain about his condition; but

he could not bring himself to face the ordealhe was ashamed to admit to a doctor that he had laid himself

He began to lose the radiant expression from his round and rosy face. He had less appetite, and his moods of

depression became so frequent that he could not hide then even from Henriette. She asked him once or twice

if there were not something the matter with him, and he laugheda forced and hurried laughand told her

that he had sat up too late the night before, worrying over the matter of his examinations. Oh, what a cruel

thing it was that a man who stood in the very gateway of such a garden of delight should be tormented and

The disturbing symptom still continued, and so at last George purchased a medical book, dealing with the

subject of the disease. Then, indeed, he opened up a chamber of horrors; he made up his mind an abiding

place of ghastly images. In the book there were pictures of things so awful that he turned white, and trembled

like a leaf, and had to close the volume and hide it in the bottom of his trunk. But he could not banish the

pictures from his mind. Worst of all, he could not forget the description of the first symptom of the disease,

which seemed to correspond exactly with his own. So at last he made up his mind he must ascertain definitely

He began to think over plans for seeing a doctor. He had heard somewhere a story about a young fellow who

had fallen into the hands of a quack, and been ruined forever. So he decided that he would consult only the

He got the names of the bestknown works on the subject from a bookstore, and found that the author of one

of these books was practicing in Paris as a specialist. Two or three days elapsed before he was able to get up

the courage to call on this doctor. And oh, the shame and horror of sitting in his waitingroom with the other

people, none of whom dared to look each other in the eyes! They must all be afflicted, George thought, and

he glanced at them furtively, looking for the various symptoms of which he had read. Or were there, perhaps,

some like himselfmerely victims of a foolish error, coming to have the hag of dread pulled from off their

And then suddenly, while he was speculating, there stood the doctor, signaling to him. His turn had come!

The doctor was a man about forty years of age, robust, with every appearance of a strong character. In the

buttonhole of the frock coat he wore was a red rosette, the decoration of some order. Confused and nervous as

George was, he got a vague impression of the physician's richly furnished office, with its bronzes, marbles

The doctor signaled to the young man to be seated in the chair before his desk. George complied, and then, as

he wiped away the perspiration from his forehead, stammered out a few words, explaining his errand. Of

course, he said, it could not be true, but it was a man's duty not to take any chances in such a matter. "I have

not been a man of loose life," he added; "I have not taken so many chances as other men."

The doctor cut him short with the brief remark that one chance was all that was necessary. Instead of

discussing such questions, he would make an examination. "We do not say positively in these cases until we

have made a blood test. That is the one way to avoid the possibility of mistake."

A drop of blood was squeezed out of George's finger on to a little glass plate. The doctor retired to an

adjoining room, and the victim sat alone in the office, deriving no enjoyment from the works of art which

surrounded him, but feeling like a prisoner who sits in the dock with his life at stake while the jury

George wiped his forehead. He could not credit the words. "No doubt whatever? In what sense?"

He began to write a prescription, without seeming to notice how George turned page with terror. "Come," he

The doctor, having finished his prescription, looked up and observed his condition. "Don't trouble yourself,

sir. Out of every seven men you meet upon the street, in society, or at the theater, there is at least one who has

George was staring before him. He spoke low, as if to himself. "I know what I am going to do."

"And I know also," said the doctor, with a smile. "There is your prescription. You are going to take it to the

"No, because my situation is not that of everybody else. I know what I am going to do."

Said the doctor: "Five times out of ten, in the chair where you are sitting, people talk like that, perfectly

sincerely. Each one believes himself more unhappy than all the others; but after thinking it over, and listening

to me, they understand that this disease is a companion with whom one can live. Just as in every household,

one gets along at the cost of mutual concessions, that's all. Come, sir, I tell you again, there is nothing about it

that is not perfectly ordinary, perfectly natural, perfectly common; it is an accident which can happen to any

one. It is a great mistake that people speak if this as the 'French Disease,' for there is none which is more

universal. Under the picture of this disease, addressing myself to those who follow the oldest profession in

the world, I would write the famous phrase: 'Here is your master. It is, it was, or it must be.'"

George was putting the prescription into the outside pocket of his coat, stupidly, as if he did not know what

"Why?" inquired the other. "Because you are a man of position, because you are rich? Look around you, sir.

See these works of art in my room. Do you imagine that such things have been presented to me by

"But, Doctor," cried George, with a moan, "I have never been a libertine. There was never any one, you

understand me, never any one could have been more careful in his pleasures. If I were to tell you that in all

"I would answer, that a single one would have been sufficient to bring you to me."

"No, sir!" cried George. "It could not have been either of those women." He went on to tell the doctor about

his first mistress, and then about Lizette. Finally he told about Henriette, how much he adored her. He could

really use such a wordhe loved her most tenderly. She was so goodand he had thought himself so lucky!

As he went on, he could hardly keep from going to pieces. "I had everything," he exclaimed, "everything a

man needed! All who knew me envied me. And then I had to let those fellows drag me off to that miserable

supperparty! And now here I am! My future is ruined, my whole existence poisoned! What is to become of

He paused, and then in sudden wild grief exclaimed, "Come, now! Would it not be better that I should take

myself out of the way? At least, I should not suffer any more. You see that there could not be any one more

unhappy than myselfnot any one, I tell you, sir, not any one!" Completely overcome, he began to weep in

The doctor got up, and went to him. "You must be a man," he said, "and not cry like a child."

"But sir," cried the young man, with tears running down his cheeks, "if I had led a wild life, if I had passed

my time in dissipation with chorus girls, then I could understand it. Then I would say that I had deserved it."

The doctor exclaimed with emphasis, "No, no! You would not say it. However, it is of no mattergo on."

"I tell you that I would say it. I am honest, and I would say that I had deserved it. But no, I have worked, I

have been a regular grind. And now, when I think of the shame that is in store for me, the disgusting things,

"Oh, I know, I know!" cried the other, and repeated what his friend had told him about the man in a

wheelchair. "And they used to call me handsome Raoul! That was my namehandsome Raoul!"

"Now, my dear sir," said the doctor, cheerfully, "wipe your eyes one last time, blow your nose, put your

George obeyed mechanically. "But I give you fair warning," he said, "you are wasting your time."

"Very well, then. I tell you that if you have the will and the perseverance, none of the things you fear will

"I will tell you that there are one hundred thousand like you in Paris, alert, and seemingly well. Come, take

"And besides," added the doctor, "a good many people who ride in them are not there for the cause you think.

There is no more reason why you should be the victim of a catastrophe than any of the one hundred thousand.

"Relatively, if you please. You have the good fortune to be infected with one of the diseases over which we

The doctor laughed, contemptuously. "You were told, you were told! I'll wager that you know the laws of the

"Instead of teaching you such things," was the reply, "it would have been a great deal better to have taught

you about the nature and cause of diseases of this sort. Then you would have known how to avoid the

contagion. Such knowledge should be spread abroad, for it is the most important knowledge in the world. It

This remark gave George something of a shock, for his father had owned a little paper in the provinces, and

he had a sudden vision of the way subscribers would have fallen off, if he had printed even so much as the

"They don't want the truth about venereal diseases," exclaimed the other. "If they knew the full truth, they

He went on to give his advice as to the means of avoiding such diseases. There was really but one rule. It

was: To love but one woman, to take her as a virgin, and to love her so much that she would never deceive

you. "Take that from me," added the doctor, "and teach it to your son, when you have one."

"I repeat it to you; if you take care of yourself properly for a long time, conscientiously, you have little to

George felt as if he had suddenly emerged from a dungeon. "Why, then," he exclaimed, "I shall be able to

"You are not deceiving me? You would not give me that hope, you would not expose me? How soon will I be

Said the doctor: "The disease will no longer be dangerous to you, yourselfbut you will be dangerous to

"But I cannot do any differently. The contract is ready! The banns have been published! I have given my

"Well, you are a great one!" the doctor laughed. "Just now you were looking for your revolver! Now you

"As soon as I knew that the disease is not what I imagined, and that I could be cured, naturally I didn't want

to commit suicide. And as soon as I make up my mind not to commit suicide, I have to take up my regular

"Yes, yes!" persisted George, with blind obstinacy. "Why, Doctor, if I didn't marry it would be a disaster.

You are talking about something you don't understand. I, for my partit is not that I am anxious to be

married. As I told you, I had almost a second family. Lizette's little brothers adored me. But it is my aunt, an

old maid; and, also, my mother is crazy about the idea. If I were to back out now, she would die of chagrin.

My aunt would disinherit me, and she is the one who has the family fortune. Then, too, there is my

fatherinlaw, a regular dragoon for his principlessevere, violent. He never makes a joke of serious things,

and I tell you it would cost me dear, terribly dear. And, besides, I have given my word."

"You still insist?" exclaimed George, in despair. "But then, suppose that it were possible, how could I take

back my signature which I put at the bottom of the deed? I have pledged myself to pay in two months for the

"You are going to tell me that I was lacking in prudence, that I should never have disposed of my wife's

"Sir," said the doctor, again, "all these considerations are foreign to me. I am a physician, and nothing but a

physician, and I can only tell you this: If you marry before three or four years, you will be a criminal."

George broke out with a wild exclamation. "No sir, you are not merely a physician! You are also a confessor!

You are not merely a scientist; and it is not enough for you that you observe me as you would some lifeless

thing in your laboratory, and say, 'You have this; science says that; now go along with you.' All my existence

depends upon you. It is your duty to listen to me, because when you know everything you will understand

"But," protested the doctor, "I wear myself out telling you that such means do not exist. I shall not be certain

of your cure, as much as any one can be certain, in less than three or four years."

George was almost beside himself. "I tell you you must find some means! Listen to me, sirif I don't get

married I don't get the dowry! And will you tell me how I can pay the notes I have signed?"

"Oh," said the doctor, dryly, "if that is the question, it is very simpleI will give you a plan to get out of the

affair. You will go and get acquainted with some rich man; you will do everything you can to gain his

"I am not joking," replied his adviser. "Rob that man, assassinate him eventhat would be no worse crime

than you would commit in taking a young girl in good health in order to get a portion of her dowry, when at

the same time you would have to expose her to the frightful consequences of the disease which you would

"Just now I did not tell you everything. Even reduced, suppressed a little by our remedies, the disease remains

mysterious, menacing, and it its sum, sufficiently grave. So it would be an infamy to expose your fiancee in

But George was still not to be convinced. Was it certain that this misfortune would befall Henriette, even

Said the other: "I do not wish to lie to you. No, it is not absolutely certain, it is probable. And there is another

truth which I wish to tell you now: our remedies are not infallible. In a certain number of casesa very small

number, scarcely five per centthey have remained without effect. You might be one of those exceptions,

"I will employ a word you used just now, yourself. We should have to expect the worst catastrophes."

"I can tell you only one thing: don't marry. You have a most serious blemish. It is as if you owed a debt.

Perhaps no one will ever come to claim it; on the other hand, perhaps a pitiless creditor will come all at once,

presenting a brutal demand for immediate payment. Come nowyou are a business man. Marriage is a

contract; to marry without saying anythingthat means to enter into a bargain by means of passive

dissimulation. That's the term, is it not? It is dishonesty, and it ought to come under the law."

George, being a lawyer, could appreciate the argument, and could think of nothing to say to it.

"But," cried the young man, wildly, "there will be no question then of three or four years' delay. He will

"But I have to give him a reason, or I don't know what he will do. He is the sort of man to give himself to the

worst violence, and again my fiancee would be lost to me. Listen, doctor. From everything I have said to you,

you may perhaps think I am a mercenary man. It is true that I want to get along in the world, that is only

natural. But Henriette has such qualities; she is so much better than I, that I love her, really, as people love in

novels. My greatest griefit is not to give up the practice I have boughtalthough, indeed, it would be a

bitter blow to me; my greatest grief would be to lose Henriette. If you could only see her, if you only knew

The young fellow took out his cardcase. And offered a photograph to the doctor, who gently refused it. The

"I beg your pardon," he said, "I am ridiculous. That happens to me, sometimes. Only, put yourself in my

"My dear boy," said the doctor, feelingly, "that is exactly why you ought not to marry her."

"But," he cried, "if I back out without saying anything they will guess the truth, and I shall be dishonored."

"But with such a disease! People are so stupid. I myself, yesterdayI should have laughed at anyone who

had got into such a plight; I should have avoided him, I should have despised him!" And suddenly George

broke down again. "Oh!" he cried, "if I were the only one to suffer; but sheshe is in love with me. I swear

Suddenly George set his lips with resolution. He rose from his seat. He took several twentyfranc pieces

from his pocket and laid them quietly upon the doctor's deskpaying the fee in cash, so that he would not

have to give his name and address. He took up his gloves, his cane and his hat, and rose.

"I will think it over," he said. "I thank you, Doctor. I will come back next week as you have told me. That

The doctor rose, and he spoke in a voice of furious anger. "No," he said, "I shan't see you next week, and you

won't even think it over. You came here knowing what you had; you came to ask advice of me, with the

intention of paying no heed to it, unless it conformed to your wishes. A superficial honesty has driven you to

take that chance in order to satisfy your conscience. You wanted to have somebody upon whom you could

put off, bye and bye, the consequences of an act whose culpability you understand! No, don't protest! Many

of those who come here think and act as you think, and as you wish to act; but the marriage made against my

will has generally been the source of such calamities that now I am always afraid of not having been

persuasive enough, and it even seems to me that I am a little to blame for these misfortunes. I should have

been able to prevent them; they would not have happened if those who are the authors of them knew what I

know and had seen what I have seen. Swear to me, sir, that you are going to break off that marriage!"

George was greatly embarrassed, and unwilling to reply. "I cannot swear to you at all, Doctor; I can only tell

"What I have told you is true! You cannot bring any new objections; and I have answered those which you

Groping for a reply, George hesitated. He could not deny that he had made inquiry about these matters before

he had come to the doctor. But he said that he was not al all certain that he had this disease. The doctor

declared it, and perhaps it was true, but the most learned physicians were sometimes deceived.

He remembered something he had read in one of the medical books. "Dr. Ricord maintains that after a certain

period the disease is no longer contagious. He has proven his contentions by examples. Today you produce

new examples to show that he is wrong! Now, I want to do what's right, but surely I have the right to think it

over. And when I think it over, I realize that all the evils with which you threaten me are only probable evils.

In spite of your desire to terrify me, you have been forced to admit that possibly my marriage would not have

The doctor found difficulty in restraining himself. But he said, "Go on. I will answer you afterwards."

And George blundered ahead in his desperation. "Your remedies are powerful, you tell me; and for the

calamities of which you speak to befall me, I would have to be among the rare exceptionsalso my wife

would have to be among the number of those rare exceptions. If a mathematician were to apply the law of

chance to these facts, the result of his operation would show but slight chance of a catastrophe, as compared

with the absolute certainty of a series of misfortunes, sufferings, troubles, tears, and perhaps tragic accidents

which the breaking of my engagement would cause. So I say that the mathematicianwho is, even more

than you, a man of science, a man of a more infallible sciencethe mathematician would conclude that

"You believe it, sir!" exclaimed the other. "But you deceive yourself." And he continued, driving home his

point with a finger which seemed to George to pierce his very soul. "Twenty cases identical with your own

have been patiently observed, from the beginning to the end. Nineteen times the woman was infected by her

husband; you hear me, sir, nineteen times out of twenty! You believe that the disease is without danger, and

you take to yourself the right to expose your wife to what you call the chance of your being one of those

exceptions, for whom our remedies are without effect. Very well; it is necessary that you should know the

disease which your wife, without being consulted, will run a chance of contracting. Take that book, sir; it is

"You do not wish to read it?" the other continued. "Listen to me." And in a voice trembling with passion, he

read: "'I have watched the spectacle of an unfortunate young woman, turned into a veritable monster by

means of a syphilitic infection. Her face, or rather let me say what was left of her face, was nothing but a flat

But the other cried, "No, no! I will go to the very end. I have a duty to perform, and I will not be stopped by

He went on reading: "'Of the upper lip not a trace was left; the ridge of the upper gums appeared perfectly

bare.'" But then at the young man's protests, his resolution failed him. "Come," he said, "I will stop. I am

sorry for youyou who accept for another person, for the woman you say you love, the chance of a disease

which you cannot even endure to hear described. Now, from whom did that woman get syphilis? It is not I

who am speaking, it is the book. 'From a miserable scoundrel who was not afraid to enter into matrimony

when he had a secondary eruption.' All that was established later on'and who, moreover, had thought it

The doctor closed the book with a bang. "What that man has done, sir, is what you want to do."

George was edging toward the door; he could no longer look the doctor in the eye. "I should deserve all those

epithets and still more brutal ones if I should marry, knowing that my marriage would cause such horrors. But

that I do not believe. You and your teachersyou are specialists, and consequently you are driven to

attribute everything to the disease you make the subject of your studies. A tragic case, an exceptional case,

holds a kind of fascination for you; you think it can never be talked about enough."

"I have heard that argument before," said the doctor, with an effort at patience.

"Let me go on, I beg you," pleaded George. "You have told me that out of every seven men there is one

syphilitic. You have told me that there are one hundred thousand in Paris, coming and going, alert, and

"It is true," said the doctor, "that there are one hundred thousand who are actually at this moment not visibly

under the influence of the disease. But many thousands have passed into our hospitals, victims of the most

frightful ravages that our poor bodies can support. Theseyou do not see them, and they do not count for

you. But again, if it concerned no one but yourself, you might be able to argue thus. What I declare to you,

what I affirm with all the violence of my conviction, is that you have not the right to expose a human creature

to such chancesrare, as I know, but terrible, as I know still better. What have you to answer to that?"

"Nothing," stammered George, brought to his knees at last. "You are right about that. I don't know what to

"And in forbidding you marriage," continued the doctor, "is it the same as if I forbade it forever? Is it the

same as if I told you that you could never be cured? On the contrary, I hold out to you every hope; but I

demand of you a delay of three or four years, because it will take me that time to find out if you are among

the number of those unfortunate ones whom I pity with all my heart, for whom the disease is without mercy;

because during that time you will be dangerous to your wife and to your children. The children I have not yet

Here the doctor's voice trembled slightly. He spoke with moving eloquence. "Come, sir, you are an honest

man; you are too young for such things not to move you; you are not insensible to duty. It is impossible that I

shan't be able to find a way to your heart, that I shan't be able to make you obey me. My emotion in speaking

to you proves that I appreciate your suffering, that I suffer with you. It is in the name of my sincerity that I

implore you. You have admitted itthat you have not the right to expose your wife to such miseries. But it is

not only your wife that you strike; you may attack in her your own children. I exclude you for a moment from

my thoughtyou and her. It is in the name of these innocents that I implore you; it is the future, it is the race

that I defend. Listen to me, listen to me! Out of the twenty households of which I spoke, only fifteen had

children; these fifteen had twentyeight. Do you know how many out of these twentyeight survived? Three,

sir! Three out of twentyeight! Syphilis is above everything a murderer of children. Herod reigns in France,

and over all the earth, and begins each year his massacre of the innocents; and if it be not blasphemy against

the sacredness of life, I say that the most happy are those who have disappeared. Visit our children's

hospitals! We know too well the child of syphilitic parents; the type is classical; the doctors can pick it out

anywhere. Those little old creatures who have the appearance of having already lived, and who have kept the

stigmata of all out infirmities, of all our decay. They are the victims of fathers who have married, being

ignorant of what you knowthings which I should like to go and cry out in the public places."

The doctor paused, and then in a solemn voice continued: "I have told you all, without exaggeration. Think it

over. Consider the pros and cons; sum up the possible misfortunes and the certain miseries. But disregard

yourself, and consider that there are in one side of the scales the misfortunes of others, and in the other your

George was at last overcome. "Very well," he said, "I give way. I won't get married. I will invent some

"If only you wanted to do it!" cried the young man, hysterically. "You are a learned man; seek, invent, find

something! Try some new plan with me; give me double the dose, ten times the does; make me suffer. I give

myself up to you; I will endure everythingI swear it! There ought to be some way to cure me within six

months. Listen to me! I tell you I can't answer for myself with that delay. Come; it is in the name of my wife,

The doctor had reached the limit of his patience. "Enough, sir!" he cried. "Enough!"

But nothing could stop the wretched man. "On my knees!" he cried. "I put myself on my knees before you!

Oh! If only you would do it! I would bless you; I would adore you, as one adores a god! All my gratitude, all

my lifehalf my fortune! For mercy's sake, Doctor, do something; invent something; make some

The doctor answered gravely, "Do you wish me to do more for you than for the others?"

George answered, unblushingly, 'answered, unblushingly, "Yes!" He was beside himself with terror and

The other's reply was delivered in a solemn tone. "Understand, sir, for every one of out patients we do all that

we can, whether it be the greatest personage, or the last comer to out hospital clinic. We have no secrets in

reserve for those who are more fortunate, or less fortunate than the others, and who are in a hurry to be

George gazed at him for a moment in bewilderment and despair, and then suddenly bowed his head.

"Au revoir, sir," the other correctedwith what proved to be prophetic understanding. For George was

George Dupont had the most important decision of his life to make; but there was never very much doubt

what his decision would be. One the one hand was the definite certainty that if he took the doctor's advice, he

would wreck his business prospects, and perhaps also lose the woman he loved. On the other hand were

vague and uncertain possibilities which it was difficult for him to make real to himself. It was all very well to

wait a while to be cured of the dread disease; but to wait three or four years that was simply preposterous!

He decided to consult another physician. He would find one this time who would not be so particular, who

would be willing to take some trouble to cure him quickly. He began to notice the advertisements which were

scattered over the pages of the newspapers he read. There were apparently plenty of doctors in Paris who

could cure him, who were willing to guarantee to cure him. After much hesitation, he picked out one whose

The office was located in a cheap quarter. It was a dingy place, not encumbered with works of art, but with a

few books covered with dust. The doctor himself was stout and greasy, and he rubbed his hands with

anticipation at the sight of so prosperouslooking a patient. But he was evidently a man of experience, for he

knew exactly what was the matter with George, almost without the formality of an examination. Yes, he

could cure him, quickly, he said. There had recently been great discoveries madenew methods which had

not reached the bulk of the profession. He laughed at the idea of three or four years. That was the way with

those specialists! When one got forty francs for a consultation, naturally, one was glad to drag out the case.

There were tricks in the medical trade, as in all others. A doctor had to live; when he had a big name, he had

The new physician wrote out two prescriptions, and patted George on the shoulder as he went away. There

was no need for him to worry; he would surely be well in three months. If he would put off his marriage for

six months, he would be doing everything within reason. And meantime, there was no need for him to worry

himselfthings would come out all right. So George went away, feeling as if a mountain had been lifted

He went to see Henriette that same evening, to get the matter settled. "Henriette," he said, "I have to tell you

something very importantsomething rather painful. I hope you won't let it disturb you too much."

"Why," he said, blushing in spite of himself, and regretting that he had begun the matter so precipitately, "for

some time I've not been feeling quite well. I've been having a slight cough. Have you noticed it?"

"Well, today I went to see a doctor, and he says that there is a possibilityyou understand it is nothing very

He put his hand upon hers. "Don't be frightened," he said. "It will be all right, only I have to take care of

"George, you ought to go away to the country!" she cried. "You have been working too hard. I always told

"I am going to take care of myself," he said. "I realize that it is necessary. I shall be all rightthe doctor

assured me there was no doubt of it, so you are not to distress yourself. But meantime, here is the trouble: I

"We ought to wait," he said. "You ought not to take the chance of being married to a consumptive."

The other protested in consternation. He did not look like a consumptive; she did not believe that he WAS a

consumptive. She was willing to take her chances. She loved him, and she was not afraid. But George

"No," he replied, "but I made up my mind after talking to him that I must do the fair and honorable thing. I

George stood firmly by this position, and so in the end she had to give way. It did not seem quite modest in

George volunteered to write a letter to her father; and he hoped this would settle the matter without further

discussion. But in this he was disappointed. There had to be a long correspondence with long arguments and

protestations from Henriette's father and from his own mother. It seemed such a singular whim. Everybody

persisted in diagnosing his symptoms, in questioning him about what the doctor had said, who the doctor

was, how he had come to consult himall of which, of course, was very embarrassing to George, who could

not see why they had to make such a fuss. He took to cultivating a consumptive look, as well as he could

imagine it; he took to coughing as he went about the houseand it was all he could do to keep from

laughing, as he saw the look of dismay on his poor mother's face. After all, however, he told himself that he

was not deceiving her, for the disease he had was quite as serious as tuberculosis.

It was very painful and very trying. But there was nothing that could be done about it; the marriage had been

put off for six months, and in the meantime he and Henriette had to control their impatience and make the

best of their situation. Six months was a long time; but what if it had been three or four years, as the other

George, as we have seen, was conscientious, and regular and careful in his habits. He took the medicine

which the new doctor prescribed for him; and day by day he watched, and to his great relief saw the

troublesome symptoms gradually disappearing. He began to take heart, and to look forward to life with his

former buoyancy. He had had a bad scare, but now everything was going to be all right.

Three or four months passed, and the doctor told him he was cured. He really was cured, so far as he could

see. He was sorry, now, that he had asked for so long a delay from Henriette; but the new date for the

wedding had been announced, and it would be awkward to change it again. George told himself that he was

being "extra careful," and he was repaid for the inconvenience by the feeling of virtue derived from the delay.

He was relieved that he did not have to cough any more, or to invent any more tales of his interviews with the

imaginary lungspecialist. Sometimes he had guilty feelings because of all the lying he had had to do; but he

told himself that it was for Henriette's sake. She loved him as much as he loved her. She would have suffered

needless agonies had she known the truth; she would never have got over itso it would have been a crime

He really loved her devotedly, thoroughly. From the beginning he had thought as much of her mental

sufferings as he had of any physical harm that the dread disease might do to him. How could he possibly

persuade himself to give her up, when he knew that the separation would break her heart and ruin her whole

life? No; obviously, in such a dilemma, it was his duty to use his own best judgment, and get himself cured as

quickly as possible. After that he would be true to her, he would take no more chances of a loathsome

The secret he was hiding made him feel humblemade him unusually gentle in his attitude towards the girl.

He was a perfect lover, and she was ravished with happiness. She thought that all his sufferings were because

of his love for her, and the delay which he had imposed out of his excess of conscientiousness. So she loved

him more and more, and never was there a happier bride than Henriette Loches, when at last the great day

They went to the Riveria for their honeymoon, and then returned to live in the home which had belonged to

George's father. The investment in the notary's practice had proven a good one, and so life held out every

After a while, the bride communicated to her husband the tidings that she was expecting a child. Then it

seemed to George that the cup of his earthly bliss was full. His ailment had slipped far into the background of

his thoughts, like an evil dream which he had forgotten. He put away the medicines in the bottom of his trunk

and dismissed the whole matter from his mind. Henriette was wella very picture of health, as every one

agreed. The doctor had never seen a more promising young mother, he declared, and Madame Dupont, the

Henriette went for the summer to her father's place in the provinces, which she and George had visited before

their marriage. They drove out one day to the farm where they had stopped. The farmer's wife had a

weekold baby, the sight of which made Henriette's heart leap with delight. He was such a very healthy baby

that George conceived the idea that this would be the woman to nurse his own child, in case Henriette herself

They came back to the city, and there the baby was born. As George paced the floor, waiting for the news, the

memory of his evil dreams came back to him. He remembered all the dreadful monstrosities of which he had

readinfants that were born of syphilitic parents. His heart stood still when the nurse came into the room to

But it was all right; of course it was all right! He had been a fool, he told himself, as he stood in the darkened

room and gazed at the wonderful little mite of life which was the fruit of his love. It was a perfect child, the

doctor saida little small, to be sure, but that was a defect which would soon be remedied. George kneeled

by the bedside and kissed the hand of his wife, and went out of the room feeling as if he had escaped from a

All went well, and after a couple of weeks Henriette was about the house again, laughing all day and singing

with joy. But the baby did not gain quite as rapidly as the doctor had hoped, and it was decided that the

country air would be better for her. So George and his mother paid a visit to the farm in the country, and

arranged that the country woman should put her own child to nurse elsewhere and should become the

George paid a good price for the service, far more than would have been necessary, for the simple country

woman was delighted with the idea of taking care of the grandchild of the deputy of her district. George came

home and told his wife about this and had a merry time as he pictured the woman boasting about it to the

travelers who stopped at her door. "Yes, ma'am, a great piece of luck I've got, ma'am. I've got the daughter of

the daughter of our deputyat your service ma'am. My! But she is as fat as out little calfand so clever!

She understands everything. A great piece of luck for me, ma'am. She's the daughter of the daughter of our

deputy!" Henriette was vastly entertained, discovering in her husband a new talent, that of an actor.

As for George's mother, she was hardly to be persuaded from staying in the country with the child. She went

twice a week, to make sure that all went well. Henriette and she lived with the child's picture before them;

they spent their time sewing on caps and underwearall covered with laces and frills and pink and blue

ribbons. Every day, when George came home from his work, he found some new article completed, and was

ravished by the scent of some new kind of sachet powder. What a lucky man he was!

You would think he must have been the happiest man in the whole city of Paris. But George, alas, had to pay

the penalty for his early sins. There was, for instance, the deception he had practiced upon his friend, away

back in the early days. Now he had friends of his own, and he could not keep these friends from visiting him;

and so he was unquiet with the fear that some one of them might play upon him the same vile trick. Even in

the midst of his radiant happiness, when he knew that Henriette was hanging upon his every word, trembling

with delight when she heard his latchkey in the doorstill he could not drive away the horrible thought that

There was his friend, Gustave, for example. He had been a friend of Henriette's before her marriage; he had

even been in love with her at one time. And now he came sometimes to the houseonce or twice when

George was away! What did that mean? George wondered. He brooded over it all day, but dared not drop any

hint to Henriette. But he took to setting little traps to catch her; for instance, he would call her up on the

telephone, disguising his voice. "Hello! Hello! Is that you, Madame Dupont?" And when she answered, "It is

He answered, "It is I, Gustave. How are you this morning?" He wanted to see what she would answer. Would

she perhaps say, "Very well, Gustave. How are you?"in a tone which would betray too great intimacy!

But Henriette was a sharp young person. The tone did not sound like Gustave's. She asked in bewilderment,

So, at last, George, afraid that his trick might be suspected, had to burst out laughing, and turn it into a joke.

But when he came home and teased his wife about it, the laugh was not all on his side. Henriette had guessed

the real meaning of his joke! She did not really mindshe took his jealousy as a sign of love, and was

pleased with it. It is not until a third party come upon the scene that jealousy begins to be annoying.

So she had a merry time teasing George. "You are a great fellow! You have no idea how well I understand

"You know me?" said the husband, curiously. (It is always so fascinating when anybody thinks she know us

"You are restless," said Henriette. "You are suspicious. You pass your time putting flies in your milk, and

"I am not annoyed," she answered. "You have always been that wayand I know that it's because at bottom

you are timid and disposed to suffer. And then, too, perhaps you have reasons for not having confidence in a

George found this rather embarrassing; but he dared not show it, so he laughed gayly. "I don't know what you

mean," he said "upon my word I don't. But it is a trick I would not advise everybody to try."

There were other embarrassing moments, caused by George's having things to conceal. There was, for

instance, the matter of the six months' delay in the marriageabout which Henriette would never stop

talking. She begrudged the time, because she had got the idea that little Gervaise was six months younger

than she otherwise would have been. "That shows your timidity again," she would say. "The idea of your

Poor George had to defend himself. "I didn't tell you half the truth, because I was afraid of upsetting you. It

seemed I had the beginning of chronic bronchitis. I felt it quite keenly whenever I took a breath, a deep

breathlook, like this. YesI felthere and there, on each side of the chest, a heavinessa difficulty"

"The idea of taking six months to cure you of a thing like that!" exclaimed Henriette. "And making our baby

"But," laughed George, "that means that we shall have her so much the longer! She will get married six

"Oh, dear me," responded the other, "let us not talk about such things! I am already worried, thinking she will

"For my part," said George, "I see myself mounting with her on my arm the staircase of the Madeleine."

"I don't knowI see her under her white veil, and myself all dressed up, and with an order."

"I don't know thatbut I see myself with it. Explain it as you will, I see myself with an order. I see it all,

exactly as if I were therethe Swiss guard with his white stockings and the halbard, and the little milliner's

"It is far offall that," said Henriette. "I don't like to talk of it. I prefer her as a baby. I want her to grow

upbut then I change my mind and think I don't. I know your mother doesn't. Do you know, I don't believe

"I believe you," said the father. "The child can certainly boast of having a grandmother who loves her."

"Also, I adore your mother," declared Henriette. "She makes me forget my misfortune in not having my own

"Really," laughed the wife. "Well, anyhowthe last time that we went down in the country with heryou

"Oh, yes," laughed Henriette; "your famous chest!" (You must excuse this little family chatter of theirsthey

"Well, I was in the little room, and mother dear thought she was all alone with Gervaise. I was listening; she

was talking to the babyall sorts of nonsense, pretty little wordsstupid, if you like, but tender. I wanted to

"It was that day she swore that the little one had recognized her, and laughed!"

"And then another time, when I went into her roommother's roomshe didn't hear me because the door

was open, but I saw her. She was in ecstasy before the little boots which the baby wore at baptismyou

"Nothing; I stole out very softly, and I sent across the threshold a great kiss to the dear grandmother!"

Henriette sat for a moment in thought. "It didn't take her very long," she remarked, "today when she got the

"Oh no," said his wife. "Yet after all, perhaps she was right and perhaps I ought to have gone with her."

"How charming you are, my poor Henriette! You believe everything you are told. I, for my part, divined right

away the truth. The nurse was simply playing a game on us; she wanted a raise. Will you bet? Come, I'll bet

you something. What would you like to bet? You don't want to? Come, I'll bet you a lovely necklace you

"No," said Henriette, who had suddenly lost her mood of gayety. "I should be too much afraid of winning."

"Stop!" laughed her husband. "Don't you believe I love her as much as you love hermy little duck? Do you

"Ah!" he exploded. "You see you don't know! She is ninetyone days and eight hours! Ha, ha! Imagine when

she will be able to walk all alone. Then we will take her back with us; we must wait at least six months."

"If only you hadn't put off our marriage, she would be able to walk now," said Henriette.

He rose suddenly. "Come," he said, "didn't you say you had to dress and pay some calls?"

"Run along, little wife," he said. "I have a lot of work to do in the meantime. You won't be downstairs

"Byebye," said Henriette. But they paused to exchange a dozen or so kisses before she went away to dress.

Then George lighted a cigarette and stretched himself out in the big armchair. He seemed restless; he seemed

to be disturbed about something. Could it be that he had not been so much at ease as he had pretended to be,

since the letter had come from the baby's nurse? Madame Dupont had gone by the earliest train that morning.

She had promised to telegraph at oncebut she had not done so, and now it was late afternoon.

George got up and wandered about. He looked at himself in the glass for a moment; then he went back to the

chair and pulled up another to put his geet upon. He puffed away at his cigarette until he was calmer. But then

suddenly he heard the rustle of a dress behind him, and glanced about, and started up with an exclamation,

Madame Dupont stood in the doorway. She did not speak. Her veil was thrown back and George noted

"What's the matter?" he cried. "We didn't get any telegram from you; we were not expecting you till

"Henriette was just going out," he exclaimed nervously; "I had better call her."

"No!" said his mother quickly. Her voice was low and trembling. "I did not want Henriette to be here when I

Again there was a silence before the reply came. He read something terrible in the mother's manner, and he

"I have just come from the doctor's," was the reply. "He said it was necessary to take out child from the nurse

Again there was a pause. George could hardly bring himself to ask the next question. Try as he would, he

The mother did not answer. She stood staring before her. At last she said, faintly, "I don't know."

"Ah!" whispered George. For nearly a minute neither one of them spoke. "Why?" he inquired at last.

"Then I asked him if the matter was so grave that I could not be satisfied with our ordinary doctor."

"He said that if we had the means it would really be better to consult a specialist."

George looked at his mother again. He was able to do it, because she was not looking at him. He clenched his

His mother fumbled in her hand bag and drew out a visiting card. "Here," she said.

And George looked at the card. It was all he could do to keep himself from tottering. It was the card of the

doctor whom he had first consulted about his trouble! The specialist in venereal diseases!

It was all George could do to control his voice. "Youyou went to see him?" he stammered.

"No, no," he answered. "Orthat isI have met him, I think. I don't know." And then to himself, "My

"Yes. When the doctor saw the nurse, he said, 'Madame, it is impossible for me to continue to attend this

child unless I have had this very day a conversation wit the father.' So I said 'Very well,' and he said he would

George turned away, and put his hands to his forehead. "My poor little daughter!" he whispered to himself.

"Yes," said the mother, her voice breaking, "she is, indeed, a poor little daughter!"

A silence fell; for what could words avail in such a situation? Hearing the door open, Madame Dupont

started, for her nerves were all aquiver with the strain she had been under. A servant came in and spoke to

her, and she said to George, "It is the doctor. If you need me, I shall be in the next room."

Her son stood trembling, as if he were waiting the approach of an executioner. The other came into the room

without seeing him and he stood for a minute, clasping and unclasping his hands, almost overcome with

emotion. Then he said, "Goodday, doctor." As the man stared at him, surprised and puzzled, he added, "You

The doctor looked again, more closely. George was expecting him to break out in rage; but instead his voice

At last, in a voice of discouragement than of anger, he went on, "You got married, and you have a child!

"Not a word!" exclaimed the other. "There can be no explanation for what you have done."

A silence followed. The young man did not know what to say. Finally, stretching out his arms, he pleaded,

George did not hear the word. "I was able to wait only six months," he murmured.

The doctor answered in a voice of cold selfrepression, "That is enough, sir! All that does not concern me. I

have done wrong even to let you see my indignation. I should have left you to judge yourself. I have nothing

to do here but with the present and with the futurewith the infant and with the nurse."

George waited; after a while he began, "You were saying about the nurse. Will you consent that I call my

The young man started to the door, but came back, in terrible distress. "I have one prayer to offer you sir;

arrange it so that my wifeso that no one will know. If my wife learned that it is I who am the cause! It is

Said the doctor: "I will do everything in my power that she may be kept ignorant of the true nature of the

So George went to the door and called his mother. She entered and greeted the doctor, holding herself erect,

and striving to keep the signs of grief and terror from her face. She signed to the doctor to take a seat, and

"Madame Dupont," he began, "I have prescribed a course of treatment for the child. I hope to be able to

improve its condition, and to prevent any new developments. But my duty and yours does not stop there; if

"Madame, the child can no longer be brought up at the breast, either by that nurse or by any other nurse."

And suddenly George burst out into sobs. "Oh, my poor little daughter! My God, my God!"

"That can do very well for healthy infants," broke in Madame Dupont. "But at the age of three months one

cannot take from the breast a baby like ours, frail and ill. More than any other such an infant has need of a

"In that case, between the life of the child, and the health of the nurse, you understand perfectly well that my

Between her words the doctor heard the sobbing of George, whose head was buried in his arms. "Madame,"

he said, "your love for that baby has just caused you to utter something ferocious! It is not for you to choose.

It is not for you to choose. I forbid the nursing. The health of that woman does not belong to you."

"No," cried the grandmother, wildly, "nor does the health of out child belong to you! If there is a hope of

saving it, that hope is in giving it more care than any other child; and you would wish that I put it upon a

mode of nourishment which the doctors condemn, even for vigorous infants! You expect that I will let myself

be taken in like that? I answer you: she shall have the milk which she needs, my poor little one! If there was a

single thing that one could do to save herI should be a criminal to neglect it!" And Madame Dupont broke

out, with furious scorn, "The nurse! The nurse! We shall know how to do our dutywe shall take care of

her, repay her. But our child before all! No sir, no! Everything that can be done to save our baby I shall do, let

it cost what it will. To do what you sayyou don't realize itit would be as if I should kill the child!" In the

end the agonized woman burst into tears. "Oh, my poor little angel! My little savior!"

George had never ceased sobbing while his mother spoke; at these last words his sobs became loud cries. He

struck the floor with his foot, he tore his hair, as if he were suffering from violent physical pain. "Oh, oh, oh!"

he cried. "My little child! My little child!" And then, in a horrified whisper to himself, "I am a wretch! A

"Madame," said the doctor, "you must calm yourself; you must both calm yourselves. You will not help out

Madame Dupont set her lips together, and with a painful effort recovered her selfcontrol. "You are right,

sir," she said, in a low voice. "I ask your pardon; but if you only knew what that child means to me! I lost one

at that age. I am an old woman, I am a widowI had hardly hoped to live long enough to be a grandmother.

But, as you saywe must be calm." She turned to the young man, "Calm yourself, my son. It is a poor way

to show our love for the child, to abandon ourselves to tears. Let us talk, Doctor, and seriouslycoldly. But I

declare to you that nothing will ever induce me to put the child on the bottle, when I know that it might kill

The doctor replied: "This isn't the first time that I find myself in the present situation. Madame, I declare to

you that alwaysALWAYS, you understandpersons who have rejected my advice have had reason to

"You simply do not know," interrupted the doctor, "what such a nurse is capable of. You cannot imagine

what bitterness legitimate bitterness, you understandjoined to the rapacity, the cupidity, the

mischiefmaking impulsemight inspire these people to do. For them the BOURGEOIS is always

somewhat of an enemy; and when they find themselves in position to avenge their inferiority, they are

"And do you propose then to profit by her ignorance and stupidity? Besides, she could obtain judicial

"Why, surely," exclaimed Madame Dupont, "such a thing was never heard of! Do you mean that?"

"I know a dozen prosecutions of that sort; and always when there has been certainty, the parents have lost

"But surely, Doctor, you must be mistaken! Not in a case like oursnot when it is a question of saving the

Here George broke in. "I can give you the dates of the decisions." He rose from his chair, glad of an

opportunity to be useful. "I have the books," he said, and took one from the case and brought it to the doctor.

But the doctor said to George, "You will be able to convince yourself. The parents have been forced once or

twice to pay the nurse a regular income, and at other times they have had to pay her an indemnity, of which

Madame Dupont was ready with a reply to this. "Never fear, sir! If there should be a suit, we should have a

good lawyer. We shall be able to pay and choose the bestand he would demand, without doubt, which of

The doctor was staring at her in horror. "Do you not perceive that would be a monstrous thing to do?"

"Oh, I would not have to say it," was the reply. "The lawyer would see to itis not that his profession? My

"And the scandal that would result," replied the other. "Have you thought of that?"

Here George, who had been looking over his lawbooks, broke in. "Doctor, permit me to give you a little

"And are you certain that there will not be any newspaper to print the judgment?"

"Ah," said the other, "and see what a scandal? What a shame it would be to you!"

But Madame Dupont was not yet convinced. "We will prevent the woman from taking any steps; we will give

"But then," said the other, "you will give yourselves up to the risk of blackmail. I know a family which has

"If you will permit me, Doctor," said George, timidly, "she could be made to sign a receipt."

"And then," added his mother, "she would be more than delighted to go back to her country with a full purse.

She would be able to buy a little house and a bit of groundin that country one doesn't need so much in

At this moment there was a tap upon the door, and the nurse entered. She was a country woman, robust,

rosycheeked, fairly bursting with health. When she spoke one got the impression that her voice was more

than she could contain. It did not belong in a drawingroom, but under the open sky of her country home.

"I will go and see her," was the reply; and then to Madame Dupont, "We will take up this conversation later

"Nurse," said the mother, "sit down and rest. Wait a minute, I wish to speak to you." As the doctor went out,

she took her son to one side and whispered to him, "I know the way to arrange everything. If we let her know

what is the matter, and if she accepts, the doctor will have nothing more to say. Isn't that so?"

"I am going to promise that we will give her two thousand francs when she goes away, if she will consent to

"I will see," was the reply. "If she hesitates, I will go further. Let me attend to it."

George nodded his assent, and Madame Dupont returned to the nurse. "You know," she said, "that our child

"But, ma'am, I have taken the best of care of her; I have always kept her proper."

"I am not saying anything to the contrary," said Madame Dupont, "but the child is sick, the doctors have said

The nurse was not to be persuaded; she thought they were getting ready to scold her. "Humph," she said,

"that's a fine thingthe doctors! If they couldn't always find something wrong you'd say they didn't know

"But our doctor is a great doctor; and you have seen yourself that our child has some little pimples."

"Ah, ma'am," said the nurse, "that's the heatit's nothing but the heat of the blood breaking out. You don't

need to bother yourself; I tell you it's only the child's blood. It's not my fault; I swear to you that she had not

"What is there to reproach me for? Oh, what bad luck! She's tinythe little oneshe's a bit feeble; but Lord

"No," persisted Madame Dupont, "I tell youshe has got a cold in her head, and she has an eruption at the

"Well," cried the nurse, angrily, "if she has, it's because the doctor scratched her with that spoon he put into

her mouth wrong end first! A cold in the head? Yes, that's true; but if she has caught cold, I can't say when, I

don't know anything about it nothing, nothing at all. I have always kept her well covered; she's always had

as much as three covers on her. The truth is, it was when you came, the time before last; you were all the time

"But once more I tell you," cried Madame Dupont, "we are not putting any blame on you."

"Yes," cried the woman, more vehemently. "I know what that kind of talk means. It's no usewhen you're a

"I repeat to you once more," cried Madame Dupont, with difficulty controlling her impatience, "we have

But the nurse began to weep. "If I had known that anything like this was coming to me"

"We have nothing to blame you for," declared the other. "We only wish to warn you that you might possibly

The woman pouted. "A cold in the head!" she exclaimed. "Well, if I catch it, it won't be the first time. I know

At this the nurse burst into laughter so loud that the bricabrac rattled. "Oh, oh, oh! Dear lady, let me tell

you, we ain't city folks, we ain't; we don't have such soft skins. What sort of talk is that? Pimpleswhat

difference would that make to poor folks like us? We don't have a white complexion like the ladies of Paris.

We are out all day in the fields, in the sun and the rain, instead of rubbing cold cream on our muzzles! No

offense, ma'ambut I say if you're looking for an excuse to get rid of me, you must get a better one than

"I'm only a poor country woman, but I am no more stupid than the others, for all that. I know perfectly well

what your tricks mean. Mr. George here has been grumbling because you promised me thirty francs more a

month, if I came to Paris." And then, turning upon the other, she went on"But, sir, isn't it only natural?

Don't I have to put my own child away somewheres else? And then, can my husband live on his appetite?

"You are making a mistake, nurse," broke in George. "It is nothing at all of that sort; mother is quite right. I

am so far from wanting to reproach you, that, on the contrary, I think she had not promised enough, and I

want to make you, for my part, another promise. When you go away, when baby is old enough to be weaned,

Madame Dupont broke in, hurriedly, "We wish to give you,over and above your wages, you

understandwe wish to give you five hundred francs, and perhaps a thousand, if the little one is altogether in

The nurse stared at her, stupefied. "You will give me five hundred francsfor myself?" She sought to

comprehend the words. "But that was not agreed, you don't have to do that at all."

"Yes," the other hurried on, "it is because the baby will have need of extra care. You will have to take more

trouble; you will have to give it medicines; your task will be a little more delicate, a little more difficult."

"And you won't come later on to make reproaches to us? We understand one another clearly? We have

warned you that the child is sick and that you could catch the disease. Because of that, because of the special

need of care which she has, we promise you five hundred francs at the end of the nursing. That's all right, is

"But, my lady," cried the nurse, all her cupidity awakened, "you spoke just now of a thousand francs."

George passed behind the nurse and got his mother by the arm, drawing her to one side. "It would be a

His mother turned to the nurse. "In order that there may be no misunderstanding about the sumyou see

how it is, I had forgotten already that I had spoken of a thousand francswe will draw up a little paper, and

"Very good, ma'am," said the nurse, delighted with the idea of so important a transaction. "Why, it's just as

"Yes, ma'am," was the answer. But all the same, as she went out she hesitated and looked sharply first at the

doctor, and then at George and his mother. She suspected that something was wrong, and she meant to find

The doctor seated himself in George's office chair, as if to write a prescription. "The child's condition remains

"Doctor," said Madame Dupont, gravely, "from now on, you will be able to devote your attention to the baby

and the nurse without any scruple. During your absence we have arranged matters nicely. The nurse has been

informed about the situation, and she does not mind. She has agreed to accept an indemnity, and the amount

But the doctor did not take these tidings as the other had hoped he might. He replied: "The malady which the

nurse will almost inevitably contract in feeding the child is too grave in its consequences. Such consequences

might go as far as complete helplessness, even as far as death. So I say that the indemnity, whatever it might

"But," exclaimed the other, "she accepts it! She is mistress of herself, and she has the right"

"I am not at all certain that she has the right to sell her own health. And I am certain that she has not the right

to sell the health of her husband and her children. If she becomes infected, it is nearly certain that she will

communicate the disease to them; the health and the life of the children she might have later on would be

greatly compromised. Such things she cannot possibly sell. Come, madame, you must see that a bargain of

this sort isn't possible. If the evil has not been done, you must do everything to avoid it."

"If we had called in our own physician, who knows us," she protested, "he would have taken sides with us."

The doctor rose, with a severe look on his face. "I doubt it," he said, "but there is still time to call him."

And the mother in turn cried. "Don't abandon us, sir! You ought to make allowances! If you knew what that

child is to me! I tell you it seems to me as if I had waited for her coming in order to die. Have pity upon us!

Have pity upon her! You speak of the weakestit is not she who is the weakest? You have seen her, you

have seen that poor little baby, so emaciated! You have seen what a heap of suffering she is already; and

"I pity her," said the doctor, "I would like to save herand I will do everything for her. But do not ask me to

sacrifice to a feeble infant, with an uncertain and probably unhappy life, the health of a sound and robust

Whereupon Madame Dupont leaped up in sudden frenzy. "Very Well!" she exclaimed. "I will not follow your

Said the doctor in a solemn voice: "There is already some one here who regrets that he did not listen to me."

But Madame Dupont was quite beside herself. "Very well!" she cried. "If it is a fault, if it is a crime, if I shall

have to suffer remorse for it in this life, and all the punishments in the life to comeI accept it all for myself

alone! Myself alone, I take that responsibility! It is frightfully heavy, but I accept it. I am profoundly a

Christian sir; I believe in eternal damnation; but to save my little child I consent to lose my soul forever. Yes,

my mind is made upI will do everything to save that life! Let God judge me; and if he condemns me, so

The doctor answered: "That responsibility is one which I cannot let you take, for it will be necessary that I

"I shall warn the nurse. I shall inform her exactly, completelysomething which you have not done, I feel

"What?" cried Madame Dupont, wildly. "You, a doctor, called into a family which gives you its entire

confidence, which hands over to you its most terrible secrets, its most horrible miseriesyou would betray

"It is not a betrayal," replied the man, sternly. "It is something which the law commands; and even if the law

were silent, I would not permit a family of worthy people to go astray so far as to commit a crime. Either I

"You threaten! You threaten!" cried the woman, almost frantic. "You abuse the power which your knowledge

gives you! You know that it is you whose attention we need by that little cradle; you know that we believe in

you, and you threaten to abandon us! Your abandonment means the death of the child, perhaps! And if I listen

She flung up her hands like a mad creature. "And yet there is no other means! Ah, my God! Why do you not

let it be possible for me to sacrifice myself? I would wish nothing more than to be able to do itif only you

might take my old body, my old flesh, my old bonesif only I might serve for something! How quickly

would I consent that it should infect methis atrocious malady! How I would offer myself to itwith what

joys, with what delightshowever disgusting, however frightful it might be, however much to be dreaded!

Yes, I would take it without fear, without regret, if my poor old empty breasts might still give to the child the

She stopped; and George sprang suddenly from his seat, and fled to her and flung himself down upon his

The doctor rose and moved about the room, unable any longer to control his distress. "Oh, the poor people!"

The storm passed, and Madame Dupont, who was a woman of strong character, got herself together. Facing

"You must stop the nursing, and keep the woman here as a dry nurse, in order that she may not go away to

carry the disease elsewhere. Do not exaggerate to yourself the danger which will result to the child. I am, in

truth, extremely moved by your suffering, and I will do everythingI swear it to youthat your baby may

recover as quickly as possible its perfect health. I hope to succeed, and that soon. And now I must leave you

The young man rose and accompanied the doctor to the door. He could not bring himself to speak, but stood

hanging his head until the other was gone. Then he came to his mother. He sought to embrace her, but she

Her son stepped back and put his hands over his face. "Forgive me!" he said, in a broken voice. "Are we not

His mother answered: "God has punished you for your debauch by striking at your child."

But, griefstricken as the young man was, he could not believe that. "Impossible!" he said. "There is not even

a man sufficiently wicked or unjust to commit the act which you attribute to your God!"

A silence followed. When it was broken, it was by the entrance of the nurse. She had opened the door of the

room and had been standing there for some moments, unheeded. Finally she stepped forward. "Madame," she

said, "I have thought it over; I would rather go back to my home at once, and have only the five hundred

Madame Dupont stared at her in consternation. "What is that you are saying? You want to return to your

"There must be something else," his mother added. "Evidently there must be something else."

"Oh," cried the mother, "what a stupid reply! 'I have thought it over! I have thought it over!' Thought WHAT

The woman came back to her old formula: "I know that we're only poor country people."

"Listen to me, nurse," said the young man. "Only a little while ago you were afraid that we would send you

away. You were satisfied with the wages which my mother had fixed. In addition to those wages we had

promised you a good sum when you returned to your home. Now you tell us that you want to go away. You

see? All at once. There must be some reason; let us understand it. There must certainly be a reason. Has

George burst out, "Don't go on repeating always the same thing 'I have thought it over!' That's not telling

us anything." Controlling himself, he added, gently, "Come, tell me why you want to go away?"

His mother took up the conversation again. "You must realize, you have not the right to go away."

"Very well, then," cried the exasperated mother, "since you want to go, go! But I have certainly the right to

"I will not pay you the month which has just begun, and you will pay your railroad fare for yourself."

The other drew back with a look of anger. "Oho!" she cried. "We'll see about that!"

"Yes, we'll see about it!" cried George. "And you will get out of here at once. Take yourself offI will have

"No, George," protested his mother, "don't lose control of yourself." And then, with a great effort at calmness,

"I would rather go off right away to my home, and only have my five hundred francs."

"When the child should be weaned, and if we should be satisfied with you! That was our promise."

"No. You said you would give them to me when I was leaving. Now I am leaving, and I want them."

Madame Dupont drew herself up, haughtily. "In the first place," she said, "kindly oblige me by speaking to

The woman answered, "You have nothing to do but give me my money, and I will say nothing more."

George went almost beside himself with rage at this. "Oh, it's like that?" he shouted. "Very well; I'll show

George seized her by the arm and shoved her toward the door. "You clear out of here, do you understand me?

The woman shook her arm loose, and sneered into his face. "Come now, youyou can talk to me a little

"Will you go?" shouted George, completely beside himself. "Will you go, or must I go out and look for a

"More than that," broke in Madame Dupont, "you are destroying that poor little baby! You are a wicked

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" retorted the nurse. "Then you really want me to tell you why I am going away?"

She would have spoken differently had she chanced to look behind her and seen Henriette, who at that

moment appeared in the doorway. She had been about to go out, when her attention had been caught by the

loud voices. She stood now, amazed, clasping her hands together, while the nurse, shaking her fist first at

Madame Dupont and then at her son, cried loudly, "Very well! I'm going away because I don't want to catch a

"HUSH!" cried Madame Dupont, and sprang toward her, her hands clenched as if she would choke her.

But the woman rushed on without dropping her voice, "Oh, you need not be troubling yourselves for fear

anyone should overhear! All the world knows it! Your other servants were listening with me at your door!

Her mother seized the woman fiercely by the arm. "Hold your tongue!" she hissed.

But again the other shook herself loose. She was powerful, and now her rage was not to be controlled. She

waved her hands in the air, shouting, "Let me be, let me be! I know all about your bratthat you will never

be able to raise itthat it's rotten because it's father has a filthy disease he got from a woman of the street!"

She got no farther. She was interrupted by a frenzied shriek from Henriette. The three turned, horrified, just

"My God!" cried George. He sprang toward her, and tried to lift her, but she shrank from him, repelling him

with a gesture of disgust, of hatred, of the most profound terror. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, like a

It was in vain that Madame Dupont sought to control her daughter inlaw. Henriette was beside herself,

frantic, she could not be brought to listen to any one. She rushed into the other room, and when the older

woman followed her, shrieked out to be left alone. Afterwards, she fled to her own room and barred herself

in, and George and his mother waited distractedly for hours until she should give some sign.

Would she kill herself, perhaps? Madame Dupont hovered on guard about the door of the nursery for fear that

The nurse had slunk away abashed when she saw the consequences of her outburst. By the time she had got

her belongings packed, she had recovered her assurance. She wanted her five hundred; also she wanted her

wages and her railroad fare home. She wanted them at once, and she would not leave until she got them.

George and his mother, in the midst of all their anguish of mind, had to go through a disgusting scene with

They had no such sum of money in the house, and the nurse refused to accept a check. She knew nothing

about a check. It was so much paper, and might be some trick that they were playing on her. She kept

repeating her old formula, "I am nothing but a poor country woman." Nor would she be contented with the

promise that she would receive the money the next day. She seemed to be afraid that if she left the house she

would be surrendering her claim. So at last the distracted George to sally forth and obtain the cash from some

The woman took her departure. They made her sign a receipt in full for all claims and they strove to persuade

themselves that this made them safe; but in their hearts they had no real conviction of safety. What was the

woman's signature, or her pledged word, against the cupidity of her husband and relatives. Always she would

have the dreadful secret to hold over them, and so they would live under the shadow of possible blackmail.

Later in the day Henriette sent for her motherinlaw. She was white, her eyes were swollen with weeping,

and she spoke in a voice choked with sobs. She wished to return at once to her father's home, and to take little

Gervaise with her. Madame Dupont cried out in horror at this proposition, and argued and pleaded and

weptbut all to no purpose. The girl was immovable. She would not stay under her husband's roof, and she

The infant had been crying for hours, but that made no difference. Henriette insisted that a cab should be

So she went back to the home of Monsieur Loches and told him the hideous story. Never before in her life

had she discussed such subjects with any one, but now in her agitation she told her father all. As George had

declared to the doctor, Monsieur Loches was a person of violent temper; at this revelation, at the sight of his

daughter's agony, he was almost beside himself. His face turned purple, the veins stood out on his forehead; a

trembling seized him. He declared that he would kill George there was nothing else to do. Such a

The effort which Henriette had to make to restrain him had a calming effect upon herself. Bitter and indignant

as she was, she did not want George to be killed. She clung to her father, beseeching him to promise her that

he would not do such a thing; and all that day and evening she watched him, unwilling to let him out of her

There was a matter which claimed her immediate attention, and which helped to withdraw them from the

contemplation of their own sufferings. The infant must be fed and cared forthe unhappy victim of other

people's sins, whose life was now imperiled. A dry nurse must be found at once, a nurse competent to take

every precaution and give the child every chance. This nurse must be informed of the nature of the

That evening came Madame Dupont, tormented by anxiety about the child's welfare, and beseeching

permission to help take care of it. It was impossible to refuse such a request. Henriette could not endure to see

her, but the poor grandmother would come and sit for hours in the nursery, watching the child and the nurse,

This continued for days, while poor George wandered about at home, suffering such torment of mind as can

hardly be imagined. Truly, in these days he paid for his sins; he paid a thousand fold in agonized and

impotent regret. He looked back upon the course of his life, and traced one by one the acts which had led him

and those he loved into this nightmare of torment. He would have been willing to give his life if he could

have undone those acts. But avenging nature offered him no such easy deliverance as that. We shudder as we

read the grim words of the Jehovah of the ancient Hebrews; and yet not all the learning of modern times has

availed to deliver us from the cruel decree, that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children.

George wrote notes to his wife, imploring her forgiveness. He poured out all his agony and shame to her,

begging her to see him just once, to give him a chance to plead his defense. It was not much of a defense, to

be sure; it was only that he had done no worse than the others didonly that he was a wretched victim of

ignorance. But he loved her, he had proven that he loved her, and he pleaded that for the sake of their child

When all this availed nothing, he went to see the doctor, whose advice he had so shamefully neglected. He

besought this man to intercede for himwhich the doctor, of course, refused to do. It was an extramedical

But, as a matter of fact, the doctor had already been intercedinghe had gone farther in pleading George's

cause than he was willing to have George know. For Monsieur Loches had paid him a visithis purpose

being to ask the doctor to continue attendance upon the infant, and also to give Henriette a certificate which

So inevitably there had been a discussion of the whole question between the two men. The doctor had granted

the first request, but refused the second. In the first place, he said, there was a rule of professional secrecy

which would prevent him. And when the fatherinlaw requested to know if the rule of professional secrecy

compelled him to protect a criminal against honest people, the doctor answered that even if his ethics

permitted it, he would still refuse the request. "I would reproach myself forever," he said, "if I had aided you

"Then," cried the old man, vehemently, "because you profess such and such theories, because the exercise of

your profession makes you the constant witness of such miseriestherefore it is necessary that my daughter

The doctor answered, gently, "Sir, I understand and respect your grief. But believe me, you are not in a state

"You are mistaken," declared the other, controlling himself with an effort. "I have been thinking about

nothing else for days. I have discussed it with my daughter, and she agrees with me. Surely, sir, you cannot

desire that my daughter should continue to live with a man who has struck her so brutal, so cowardly, a

"If I refuse your request," the doctor answered, "it is in the interest of your daughter." Then, seeing the other's

excitement returning, he continued, "In your state of mind, Monsieur Loches, I know that you will probably

be abusing me before five minutes has passed. But that will not trouble me. I have seen many cases. And

since I have made the mistake of letting myself be trapped into this discussion, I must explain to you the

reason for my attitude. You ask of me a certificate so that you may prove in court that your soninlaw is

"And have you not reflected upon thisthat at the same time you will be publicly attesting that your

daughter has been exposed to the contagion? With such an admission, an admission officially registered in

the public records, do you believe that she will find it easy to remarry later on?"

"She says that today, but can you affirm that she will say the same thing five years from now, ten years from

now? I tell you you will not obtain that divorce, because I will most certainly refuse you the necessary

"Then," cried the other, "I will find other means of establishing proofs. I will have the child examined by

The other answered. "Then you do not find that that poor little one has been already sufficiently handicapped

at the outset of its life? Your granddaughter has a physical defect. Do you wish to add to that a certificate of

Monsieur Loches sprang from his chair. "You mean that if the victims seek to defend themselves, they will be

struck the harder! You mean that the law gives me no weapon against a man who, knowing his condition,

takes a young girl, sound, trusting, innocent, and befouls her with the result of his debauchesmakes her the

mother of a poor little creature, whose future is such that those who love her the most do not know whether

they ought to pray for her life, or for her immediate deliverance? Sir," he continued, in his orator's voice,

"that man has inflicted upon the woman he has married a supreme insult. He has made her the victim of the

most odious assault. He has degraded herhe has brought her, so to speak, into contact with the woman of

the streets. He has created between her and that common woman I know not what mysterious relationship. It

is the poisoned blood of the prostitute which poisons my daughter and her child; that abject creature, she

lives, she lives in us! She belongs to our familyhe has given her a seat at our hearth! He has soiled the

imagination and the thoughts of my poor child, as he has soiled her body. He has united forever in her soul

the idea of love which she has placed so high, with I know not what horrors of the hospitals. He has tainted

her in her dignity and her modesty, in her love as well as in her baby. He has struck her down with physical

and moral decay, he has overwhelmed her with vileness. And yet the law is such, the customs of society are

such, that the woman cannot separate herself from that man save by the aid of legal proceedings whose

Monsieur Loches had been pacing up and down the room as he spoke, and now he clenched his fists in

"Very well! I will not address myself to the law. Since I learned the truth I have been asking myself if it was

not my duty to find that monster and to put a bullet into his head, as one does to a mad dog. I don't know

what weakness, what cowardice, has held me back, and decided me to appeal to the law. Since the law will

not protect me, I will seek justice for myself. Perhaps his death will be a good warning for the others!"

The doctor shrugged his shoulders, as if to say that this was no affair of his and that he would not try to

"Yes, but after a public revelation of all your miseries. You will make the scandal greater, the miseries

greaterthat is all. And how do you know but that on the morrow of your acquittal, you will find yourself

confronting another court, a higher and more severe one? How do you know but that your daughter, seized at

last by pity for the man you have killed, will not demand to know by what right you have acted so, by what

right you have made an orphan of her child? How can you know but that her child also may some day

Monsieur Loches let his hands fall, and stood, a picture of crushed despair. "Tell me then," he said, in a faint

For a while the doctor sat looking at him. "Sir," he said, at last, "tell me one thing. You are inflexible; you

feel you have the right to be inflexible. But are you really so certain that it was not your duty, once upon a

"I mean this, sir. When that marriage was being discussed, you certainly took precautions to inform yourself

about the financial condition of your future soninlaw. You demanded that he should prove to you that his

stocks and bonds were actual value, listed on the exchange. Also, you obtained some information about his

character. In fact, you forgot only one point, the most important of allthat was, to inquire if he was in good

"Very well, but that ought to be the custom. Surely the father of a family, before he gives his daughter to a

man, should take as much precaution as a business concern which accepts an employee."

"You are right," was the reply, "there should be a law." The man spoke as a deputy, having authority in these

But the doctor cried, "No, no, sir! Do not make a new law. We have too many already. There is no need of it.

It would suffice that people should know a little better what syphilis is. The custom would establish itself

very quickly for a suitor to add to all the other documents which he presents, a certificate of a doctor, as proof

that he could be received into a family without bringing a pestilence with him. That would be very simple.

Once let the custom be established, then the suitor would go to the doctor for a certificate of health, just as he

goes to the priest for a certificate that he has confessed; and by that means you would prevent a great deal of

suffering in the world. Or let me put it another way, sir. Nowadays, before you conclude a marriage, you get

the lawyers of the two families together. It would be of at least equal importance to get their two doctors

together. You see, sir, your inquiry concerning your soninlaw was far from complete. So your daughter

may fairly ask you, why you, being a man, being a father who ought to know these things, did not take as

much care of her health as you took of her fortune. So it is, sir, that I say to you, forgive!"

And again the doctor sat and watched him for a minute. "Come, sir," he began, finally, "since it is necessary

to employ the last argument, I will do so. To be so severe and so pitiless are you yourself without sin?"

"I do not ask you that," interrupted the doctor. "I ask you if you have never exposed yourself to the chance of

having it." And then, reading the other's face, he went on, in a tone of quiet certainty. "Yes, you have exposed

yourself. Then, sir, it was not virtue that you had; it was good fortune. That is one of the things which

exasperate me the mostthat term 'shameful disease' which you have just used. Like all other diseases, that

is one of our misfortunes, and it is never shameful to be unfortunate even if one has deserved it." The

doctor paused, and then with some excitement he went on: "Come, sir, come, we must understand each other.

Among men the most exacting, among those who with their middleclass prudery dare not pronounce the

name of syphilis, or who make the most terrifying faces, the most disgusted, when they consent to speak of

itwho regard the syphilitic as sinnersI should wish to know how many there are who have never

exposed thenselves to a similar misadventure. They and they alone have the right to speak. How many are

there? Among a thousand men, are there four? Very well, then. Excepting those four, between all the rest and

There came into the doctor's voice at this moment a note of intense feeling; for these were matters of which

evidence came to him every day. "I tell you, sir, that such people are deserving of sympathy, because they are

suffering. If they have committed a fault, they have at least the plea that they are expiating it. No, sir, let me

hear no more of that hypocrisy. Recall your own youth, sir. That which afflicts your soninlaw, you have

deserved it just as much as hemore than he, perhaps. Therefore, have pity on him; have for him the

toleration which the unpunished criminal ought to have for the criminal less fortunate than himself upon

Monsieur Loches had been listening to this discourse with the feeling of a thief before the bar. There was

nothing that he could answer. "Sir," he stammered, "as you present this thing to me"

"Perhaps you are," the other admitted. "ButI cannot say all that to my daughter, to persuade her to go back

"There is no lack of them. You will say to her that a separation would be a misfortune for all; that her

husband is the only one in the world who would be devoted enough to help her save her child. You will say

to her that out of the ruins of her first happiness she can build herself another structure, far stronger. And, sir,

you will add to that whatever your good heart may suggestand we will arrange so that the next child of the

Monsieur Loches received this announcement with the same surprise that George himself had manifested. "Is

The doctor cried: "Yes, yes, yesa thousand times yes! There is a phrase which I repeat on every occasion,

and which I would wish to post upon the walls. It is that syphilis is an imperious mistress, who only demands

that one should recognize her power. She is terrible for those who think her insignificant, and gentle with

those who know how dangerous she is. You know that kind of mistresswho is only vexed when she is

neglected. You may tell this to your daughteryou will restore her to the arms of her husband, from whom

she has no longer anything to fear, and I will guarantee that you will be a happy grandfather two years from

"Doctor," he said, "I do not know that I can ever go so far as forgiveness, but I promise you that I will do no

irreparable act, and that I will not oppose a reconciliation if after the lapse of some timeI cannot venture to

"Very good," said the other. "But let me add this: If you have another daughter, take care to avoid the fault

"Ah, surely!" cried the other. "You did not know! You are a father, and you did not know! You are a deputy,

you have assumed the responsibility and the honor of making our lawsand you did not know! You are

ignorant about syphilis, just as you probably are ignorant about alcoholism and tuberculosis."

"Very well," said the doctor, "I will leave you out, if you wish. I am talking of the others, the five hundred,

and I don't know how many more, who are there in the Chamber of Deputies, and who call themselves

representatives of the people. They are not able to find a single hour to discuss these three cruel gods, to

which egotism and indifference make every day such frightful human sacrifices. They have not sufficient

leisure to combat this ferocious trinity, which destroys every day thousands of lives. Alcoholism! It would be

necessary to forbid the manufacture of poisons, and to restrict the number of licenses; but as one has fear of

the great distillers, who are rich and powerful, and of the little dealers, who are the masters of universal

suffrage, one puts one's conscience to sleep by lamenting the immorality of the workingclass, and

publishing little pamphlets and sermons. Imbeciles! . . .Tuberculosis! Everybody knows the true remedy,

which would be the paying of sufficient wages, and the tearing down of the filthy tenements into which the

laborers are packed those who are the most useful and the most unfortunate among our population! But

needless to say, no one wants that remedy, so we go round begging the workingmen not to spit on the

sidewalks. Wonderful! But syphiliswhy do you not occupy yourself with that? Why, since you have

ministers whose duty it is to attend to all sorts of things, do you not have a minister to attend to the public

"My dear Doctor," responded Monsieur Loches, "you fall into the French habit of considering the

government as the cause of all evils. Show us the way, you learned gentlemen! Since that is a matter about

which you are informed, and we are ignorant, begin by telling us what measures you believe to be necessary."

"Ah, ah!" exclaimed the other. "That's fine, indeed! It was about eighteen years ago that a project of that

nature, worked out by the Academy of Medicine, and approved by it UNANIMOUSLY, was sent to the

"You really believe," inquired Monsieur Loches, in some bewilderment, "you believe that there are some

"Sir," broke in the doctor, "before we get though, you are going to suggest some measures yourself. Let me

tell you what happened today. When I received your card I did not know that you were the fatherinlaw of

George Dupont. I say that you were a deputy, and I thought that you wanted to get some information about

these matters. There was a woman patient waiting to see me, and I kept her in my waitingroomsaying to

The doctor paused for a moment, then continued: "Be reassured, I will take care of your nerves. This patient

has no trouble that is apparent to the eye. She is simply an illustration of the argument I have been

advancingthat our worst enemy is ignorance. Ignoranceyou understand me? Since I have got you here,

sir, I am going to hold you until I have managed to cure a little of your ignorance! For I tell you, sir, it is a

thing which drives me to distractionwe MUST do something about these conditions! Take this case, for

example. Here is a woman who is very seriously infected. I told herwell, wait; you shall see for yourself.

The doctor went to the door and summoned into the room a woman whom Monsieur Loches had noticed

waiting there. She was verging on old age, small, frail, and illnourished in appearance, poorly dressed, and

yet with a suggestion of refinement about her. She stood near the door, twisting her hands together nervously,

and shrinking from the gaze of the strange gentleman. The doctor began in an angry voice. "Did I not tell you

"Three months! And you believe that I can take care of you under such conditions? I give you up! Do you

understand? You discourage me, you discourage me." There was a pause. Then, seeing the woman's

suffering, he began, in a gentler tone, "Come now, what is the reason that you have not come? Didn't you

"Oh, yes, sir," replied the woman, "I know that very wellsince my husband died of it."

"Doctor," the woman replied, "I would ask nothing better than to come as often as you told me, but the cost is

"Yes, sir," replied the woman, "but that's during working hours, and then it is a long way from home. There

are so many sick people, and I have to wait my turn, It is in the morning sometimes I lose a whole

dayand then my employer is annoyed, and he threatens to turn me off. It is things like that that keep people

from coming, until they dare not put it off any longer. Then, too, sir" the woman stopped, hesitating.

"Well," murmured the woman, "I know I ought not to put on airs, but you see I have not always been so poor.

Before my husband's misfortune, we were well fixed. So you see, I have a little pride. I have always managed

to take care of myself. I am not a woman of the streets, and to stand around like that, with everybody else, to

be obliged to tell all one's miseries out loud before the world! I am wrong, I know it perfectly well; I argue

"Poor woman!" said the doctor; and for a while there was a silence. Then he asked: "It was your husband who

"Yes, sir," was the reply. "Everything which happened to us came from him. We were living in the country

when he got the disease. He went half crazy. He no longer knew how to manage his affairs. He gave orders

"He didn't know then. We were sold out, and we came to Paris. But we hadn't a penny. He decided to go to

"Because we had been in Paris only three months. If one hasn't been a resident six months, one has no right to

"I was never able to bring one to birth," was the answer. "My husband was taken just at the beginning of our

marriageit was while he was serving in the army. You know, sirthere are women about the garrisons"

"Come," said the doctor, "that's all right. I will arrange it with you. You can come here to my office, and you

can come on Sunday mornings." And as the poor creature started to express her gratitude, he slipped a coin

into her hand. "Come, come; take it," he said gruffly. "You are not going to play proud with me. No, no, I

Then he turned to the deputy. "You heard her story, sir," he said. "Her husband was serving his time in the

army; it was you lawmakers who compelled him to do that. And there are women about the garrisonsyou

heard how her voice trembled as she said that? Take my advice, sir, and look up the statistics as to the

prevalence of this disease among our soldiers. Come to some of my clinics, and let me introduce you to other

social types. You don't care very much about soldiers, perhapsthey belong to the lower classes, and you

think of them as rough men. But let me show you what is going on among our college studentsamong the

men our daughters are some day to marry. Let me show you the women who prey upon them! Perhaps, who

knowsI can show you the very woman who was the cause of all the misery in your own family!"

And as Monsieur Loches rose from his chair, the doctor came to him and took him by the hand. "Promise me,

sir," he said, earnestly, "that you will come back and let me teach you more about these matters. It is a chance

that I must not let gothe first time in my life that I ever got hold of a real live deputy! Come and make a

study of this subject, and let us try to work out some sensible plan, and get seriously to work to remedy these

George lived with his mother after Henriette had left his home. He was wretchedly unhappy and lonely. He

could find no interest in any of the things which had pleased him before. He was ashamed to meet any of his

friends, because he imagined that everyone must have heard the dreadful storyor because he was not equal

to making up explanations for his mournful state. He no longer cared much about his work. What was the use

of making a reputation or earning large fees when one had nothing to spend them for?

All his thoughts were fixed upon the wife and child he had lost. He was reminded of Henriette in a thousand

ways, and each way brought him a separate pang of grief. He had never realized how much he had come to

depend upon her in every little thinguntil now, when her companionship was withdrawn from him, and

everything seemed to be a blank. He would come home at night, and opposite to him at the dinnertable

would be his mother, silent and spectral. How different from the days when Henriette was there, radiant and

There was also his worry about little Gervaise. He might no longer hear how she was doing, for he could not

get up courage to ask his mother the news. Thus poor George was paying for his sins. He could make no

complaints against the price, however highonly sometimes he wondered whether he would be able to pay

it. There were times of such discouragement that he thought of different ways of killing himself.

A curious adventure befell him during this period. He was walking one day in the park, when he saw

approaching a girl whose face struck him as familiar. At first he could not recollect where he had seen her. It

was only when she was nearly opposite him that he realizedit was the girl who had been the cause of all

He tried to look away, but he was too late. Her eyes had caught his, and she nodded and then stopped,

She held out her hand and he had to take it, but there was not much welcome in his clasp. "Where have you

been keeping yourself?" she asked. Then, as he hesitated, she laughed good naturedly, "What's the matter?

The girlTherese was her namehad a little package under her arm, as if she had been shopping. She was

not well dressed, as when George had met her before, and doubtless she thought that was the reason for his

lack of cordiality. This made him rather ashamed, and so, only half realizing what he was doing, he began to

She laughed. "Oh! So that's it!" And then, as they came to a bench under some trees, "Won't you sit down a

while?" There was allurement in her glance, but it made George shudder. It was incredible to him that he had

She quickly saw that something was wrong. "You don't seem very cheerful," she said. "What's the matter?"

And the man, staring at her, suddenly blurted out, "Don't you know what you did to me?"

There was silence between them. When George spoke again his voice was low and trembling. "You ruined

For a long while George did not answer. Then, almost in a whisper, he repeated, "How could you do it?"

Therese hesitated. "Yes, I knew," she said at last, defiantly. "I have known for years."

There followed a long pause. At last he resumed, "I don't want to blame you; there's nothing to be gained by

that; it's done, and can't be undone. But sometimes I wonder about it. I should like to understandwhy did

"You thought I was respectable," laughed Therese. "Well, that's just a little game I was playing on you."

He sat gazing at her. "And you earn your living that way still?" he asked. "When you know what's the matter

"But don't you even take care of yourself? Surely there must be some way, some place"

"The reformatory, perhaps," she sneered. "No, thanks! I'll go there when the police catch me, not before. I

"But aren't you afraid?" cried the man. "And the things that will happen to you! Have you ever talked to a

"I know," she said. "I've seen it all. If it comes to me, I'll go over the side of one of the bridges some dark

George sat lost in thought. A strange adventure it seemed to himto meet this girl under such different

circumstances! It was as if he were watching a play from behind the scenes instead of in front. If only he had

had this new view in timehow different would have been his life! And how terrible it was to think of the

others who didn't knowthe audience who were still sitting out in front, watching the spectacle, interested in

His thoughts came back to Therese. He was curious about her and the life she lived. "Tell me a little about it,"

he said. "How you came to be doing this." And he added, "Don't think I want to preach; I'd really like to

"Oh, it's a common story," she said"nothing especially romantic. I came to Paris when I was a girl. My

parents had died, and I had no friends, and I didn't know what to do. I got a place as a nursemaid. I was

seventeen years old then, and I didn't know anything. I believed what I was told, and I believed my employer.

His wife was ill in a hospital, and he said he wanted to marry me when she died. Well, I liked him, and I was

sorry for himand then the first thing I knew I had a baby. And then the wife came back, and I was turned

off. I had been a fool, of course. If I had been in her place should have done just what she did."

The girl was speaking in a cold, matteroffact voice, as of things about which she was no longer able to

suffer. "So, there I wason the street," she went on. "You have always had money, a comfortable home,

education, friends to help youall that. You can't imagine how it is to be in the world without any of these

things. I lived on my savings as long as I could; then I had to leave my baby in a foundling's home, and I

went out to do my five hours on the boulevards. You know the game, I have no doubt."

Yes, George knew the game. Somehow or other he no longer felt bitter towards this poor creature. She was

part of the system of which he was a victim also. There was nothing to be gained by hating each other. Just as

the doctor said, what was needed was enlightenment. "Listen," he said, "why don't you try to get cured?"

"Well," he said, hesitatingly, "I know a doctorone of the really good men. He has a free clinic, and I've no

The young man felt somewhat uncomfortable. He was not used to playing the role of the good Samaritan.

"II need not tell him about us," he stammered. "I could just say that I met you. I have had such a wretched

time myself, I feel sorry for anybody that's in the same plight. I should like to help you if I could."

The girl sat staring before her, lost in thought. "I have treated you badly, I guess," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm

George took a pencil and paper from his pocket and wrote the doctor's address. "Here it is," he said, in a

businesslike way, because he felt that otherwise he could become sentimental. He was half tempted to tell

the woman what had happened to him, and all about Henriette and the sick child; but he realized that that

The next time he saw the doctor he told him about this girl. He decided to tell him the truthhaving already

made so many mistakes trying to conceal things. The doctor agreed to treat the woman, making the condition

The young man was rather shocked at this. "Doctor," he exclaimed, "I assure you you are mistaken. The thing

"I know," said the other, "you think so. But I think, young man, that I know more about life than you do.

When a man and a woman have once committed such a sin, it is easy for them to slip back. The less time they

spend talking about their misfortunes, and being generous and forbearing to each other, the better for them

"But, Doctor," cried George. "I love Henriette! I could not possibly love anyone else. It would be horrible to

"Yes," said the doctor. "But you are not living with Henriette. You are wandering round, not knowing what to

There was no need for anybody to tell George that. "What do you think?" he asked abruptly. "Is there any

"I think there is," said the other, who, in spite of his resolution, had become a sort of ambassador for the

unhappy husband. He had to go to the Loches house to attend the child, and so he could not help seeing

Henriette, and talking to her about the child's health and her own future. He considered that George had had

his lesson, and urged upon the young wife that he would be wiser in future, and safe to trust.

George had indeed learned much. He got new lessons every time he went to call at the physician's officehe

could read them in the faces of the people he saw there. One day when he was alone in the waitingroom, the

doctor came out of his inner office, talking to an elderly gentleman, whom George recognized as the father of

one of his classmates at college. The father was a little shopkeeper, and the young man remembered how

pathetically proud he had been of his son. Could it be, thought George, that this old man was a victim of

But it was the son, and not the father, who was the subject of the consultation. The old man was speaking in a

deeply moved voice, and he stood so that George could not help hearing what he said. "Perhaps you can't

understand," he said, "just what it means to usthe hopes we had of that boy! Such a fine fellow he was, and

a good fellow, too, sir! We were so proud of him; we had bled our veins to keep him in collegeand now

"Don't despair, sir," said the doctor, "we'll try to cure him." And he added with that same note of sorrow in

his voice which George had heard, "Why did you wait so long before you brought the boy to me?"

"How was I to know what he had?" cried the other. "He didn't dare tell me, sirhe was afraid of my scolding

him. And in the meantime the disease was running its course. When he realized that he had it, he went

secretly to one of the quacks, who robbed him, and didn't cure him. You know how it is, sir."

"Such things ought not to be permitted," cried the old man. "What is our government about that it allows such

things to go on? Take the conditions there at the college where my poor boy was ruined. At the very gates of

the building these women are waiting for the lads! Ought they to be permitted to debauch young boys only

fifteen years old? Haven't we got police enough to prevent a thing like that? Tell me, sir!"

"No doubt they have the same excuse as all the restthey don't know. Take courage, sir; we have cured

worse cases than your son's. And some day, perhaps, we shall be able to change these conditions."

So he went on with the man, leaving George with something to think about. How much he could have told

them about what had happened to that young fellow when only fifteen years old! It had not been altogether

the fault of the women who were lurking outside of the college gates; it was a fact that the boy's classmates

had teased him and ridiculed him, had literally made his life a torment, until he had yielded to temptation.

It was the old, old story of ignorant and unguided schoolboys all over the world! They thought that to be

chaste was to be weak and foolish; that a fellow was not a man unless he led a life of debauchery like the rest.

And what did they know about these dreadful diseases? They had the most horrible superstitions ideas of

cures so loathsome that they could not be set down in print; ideas as ignorant and destructive as those of

savages in the heart of Africa. And you might hear them laughing and jesting about one another's condition.

They might be afflicted with diseases which would have the most terrible aftereffects upon their whole lives

and upon their familiesdiseases which cause tens of thousands of surgical operations upon women, and a

large percentage of blindness and idiocy in childrenand you might hear them confidently express the

And all this mass of misery and ignorance covered over and clamped down by a taboo of silence, imposed by

the horrible superstition of sexprudery! George went out from the doctor's office trembling with excitement

over this situation. Oh, why had not some one warned him in time? Why didn't the doctors and the teachers

lift up their voices and tell young men about these frightful dangers? He wanted to go out in the highways

and preach it himselfexcept that he dared not, because he could not explain to the world his own sudden

These was only one person he dared to talk to: that was his motherto whom he ought to have talked many,

many years before. He was moved to mention to her the interview he had overheard in the doctor's office. In

a sudden burst of grief he told her of his struggles and temptations; he pleaded with her to go to Henriette

once moreto tell her these things, and try to make her realize that he alone was not to blame for them, that

they were a condition which prevailed everywhere, that the only difference between her husband and other

There was pressure being applied to Henriette from several sides. After all, what could she do? She was

comfortable in her father's home, so far as the physical side of things went; but she knew that all her friends

were gossiping and speculating about her separation from her husband, and sooner or later she would have to

make up her mind, either to separate permanently from George or to return to him. There was not much

happiness for her in the thought of getting a divorce from a man whom deep in her heart she loved. She

would be practically a widow the rest of her life, and the home in which poor little Gervaise would be

George was ready to offer any terms, if only she would come back to his home. They might live separate

lives for as long as Henriette wished. They would have no more children until the doctor declared it was quite

safe; and in the meantime he would be humble and patient, and would try his best to atone for the wrong that

To these arguments Madame Dupont added others of her own. She told the girl some things which through

bitter experience she had learned about the nature and habits of men; things that should be told to every girl

before marriage, but which almost all of them are left to find out afterwards, with terrible suffering and

disillusionment. Whatever George's sins may have been, he was a man who had been chastened by suffering,

and would know how to value a woman's love for the rest of his life. Not all men knew thatnot even those

Henriette was also hearing arguments from her father, who by this time had had time to think things over, and

had come to the conclusion that the doctor was right. He had noted his sonin law's patience and penitence,

and had also made sure that in spite of everything Henriette still loved him. The baby apparently was doing

well; and the Frenchman, with his strong sense of family ties, felt it a serious matter to separate a child

permanently from its father. So in the end he cast the weight of his influence in favor of a reconciliation, and

The doctor played in these negotiations the part which he had not been allowed to play in the marriage. For

the deputy was now thoroughly awake to the importance of the duty he owed his daughter. In fact, he had

become somewhat of a "crank" upon the whole subject. He had attended several of the doctor's clinics, and

had read books and pamphlets on the subject of syphilis, and was now determined that there should be some

At the outset, he had taken the attitude of the average legislator, that the thing to do was to strengthen the

laws against prostitution, and to enforce them more strictly. He echoed the cry of the old man whom George

"We must go to the source," he declared. "We must proceed against these miserable womenveritable

He really thought this was going to the source! But the doctor was quick to answer his arguments.

"Poisoners?" he said. "You forget that they have first been poisoned. Every one of these women who

Monsieur Loches advanced to his second idea, to punish the men. But the doctor had little interest in this idea

either. He had seen it tried so many timessuch a law could never be enforced. What must come first was

education, and by this means a modification of morals. People must cease to treat syphilis as a mysterious

"But," objected the other, "one cannot lay it bare to children in our educational institutions!"

The doctor became much excited whenever he heard this argument. "You believe that you are preventing

these curiosities from awakening?" he demanded. "I appeal to thoseboth men and womenwho have

passed through colleges and boarding schools! Such curiosities cannot be smothered, and they satisfy

themselves as best they can, basely, vilely. I tell you, sir, there is nothing immoral about the act which

perpetuates life by means of love. But we organize around it, so far as concerns our children, a gigantic and

rigorous conspiracy of silence. The worthy citizen takes his daughter and his son to popular musical

comedies, where they listen to things which would make a monkey blush; but it is forbidden to discuss

seriously before the young that act of love which people seem to think they should only know of through

blasphemies and profanations! Either that act is a thing of which people can speak without blushingor else,

sir, it is a matter for the innuendoes of the cabaret and the witticisms of the messroom! Pornography is

admitted, but science is not! I tell you, sir, that is the thing which must be changed! We must elevate the soul

of the young man by taking these facts out of the realm of mystery and of slang. We must awaken in him a

pride in that creative power with which each one of us is endowed. We must make him understand that he is a

sort of temple in which is prepared the future of the race, and we must teach him that he must transmit, intact,

the heritage entrusted to himthe precious heritage which has been built out of the tears and miseries and

So the doctor argued. He brought forth case after case to prove that the prostitute was what she was, not

because of innate vileness, but because of economic conditions. It happened that the deputy came to one of

the clinics where he met Therese. The doctor brought her into his consulting room, after telling her that the

imposinglooking gentleman was a friend of the director of the opera, and might be able to recommend her

for a position on the stage to which she aspired. "Tell him all about yourself," he said, "how you live, and

what you do, and what you would like to do. You will get him interested in you."

So the poor girl retold the story of her life. She spoke in a matteroffact voice, and when she came to tell

how she had been obliged to leave her baby in the foundling asylum, she was surprised that Monsieur Loches

showed horror. "What could I do?" she demanded. "How could I have taken care of it?"

"Of course I missed it. But what difference did that make? It would have died of hunger with me."

"It was the father's child, too, wasn't it? Much attention he paid to it! If I had been sure of getting money

enough, I would have put it out to nurse. But with the twentyfive or thirty francs a month I could have

earned as a servant, could I have paid for a baby? That's the situation a girl facesso long as I wanted to

remain honest, it was impossible for me to keep my child. You answer, perhaps, 'You didn't stay honest

anyway.' That's true. But thenwhen you are hungry, and a nice young fellow offers you dinner, you'd have

to be made of wood to refuse him. Of course, if I had had a tradebut I didn't have any. So I went on the

"Is that so?" said the girl. "I never supposed there was anyone who didn't know about such things. Well, I

took the part of a little workinggirl. A very simple dressthings I had made especially for thata little

bundle in a black napkin carried in my handso I walked along where the shops are. It's tiresome, because

to do it right, you have to patter along fast. Then I stop before a shop, and nine times out of ten, there you are!

A funny thing is that the menyou'd imagine they had agreed on the words to approach you with. They have

only two phrases; they never vary them. It's either, 'You are going fast, little one.' Or it's, 'Aren't you afraid all

alone?' One thing or the other. One knows pretty well what they mean. Isn't it so?" The girl paused, then went

on. "Again, I would get myself up as a young widow. There, too, one has to walk fast: I don't know why that

should be so, but it is. After a minute or two of conversation, they generally find out that I am not a young

"Sometimes I can see it," was the response. "Sometimes they wear orders. It's funnyif they have on a

ribbon when you first notice them, they follow you, and prestothe ribbon is gone! I always laugh over that.

I've watched them in the glass of the shop windows. They try to look unconcerned, but as they walk along

She paused; then, as no one joined in her laugh, she continued, "Well, at last the police got after me, That's a

story that I've never been able to understand. Those filthy men gave me a nasty disease, and then I was to be

"Well," said the doctor, grimly, "you revenged yourself on them from what you have told me."

The other laughed. "Oh, yes," she said. "I had my innings." She turned to Monsieur Loches. "You want me to

tell you that? Well, just on the very day I learned that the police were after me, I was coming home furious,

naturally. It was on the Boulevard St. Denis, if you know the placeand whom do you think I met? My old

masterthe one who got me into trouble, you know. There it was, God's own will! I said to myself, 'Now,

my good fellow, here's the time where you pay me what you owe me, and with interest, too!' I put on a little

The woman paused; her face darkened, and she went on, in a voice trembling with agitation: "When I had left

him, I was seized with a rage. A sort of madness got into my blood. I took on all the men who offered

themselves, for whatever they offered me, for nothing, if they didn't offer me anything. I took as many as I

could, the youngest ones and the handsomest ones. Just so! I only gave them back what they had given to me.

And since that time I haven't really cared about anyone any more. I just turned it all into a joke." She paused,

and then looking at the deputy, and reading in his face the horror with which he was regarding her, "Oh, I am

not the only one!" she exclaimed. "There are lots of other women who do the same. To be sure, it is not for

vengeanceit is because they must have something to eat. For even if you have syphilis, you have to eat,

She had turned to the doctor, but he did not answer. There was a long silence; and then thinking that his

friend, the deputy, had heard enough for one session, the doctor rose. He dismissed the woman, the cause of

all George Dupont's misfortunes, and turning to Monsieur Loches, said: "It was on purpose that I brought that

wretched prostitute before you. In her the whole story is summed upnot merely the story of your

soninlaw, but that of all the victims of the red plague. That woman herself is a victim, and she is a symbol

of the evil which we have created and which falls upon our own heads again. I could add nothing to her story,

I only ask you, Monsieur Locheswhen next you are proposing new laws in the Chamber of Deputies, not to