By this time we thoroughly understood the character of the house. It may be there were exceptions, but they would be but few. The inmates, probably about sixty, young and old, were living a life of sin, and we were told that the proprietor of this lodging-house owned fifteen others. We learnt that a house could be taken for £2 11_s_. a week, and 8_s_. for a servant. We learnt that most of the girls came home very late--many as late as two o'clock--and in such a state that they kept the others awake, singing and talking, drunk or maudlin. The house was open till two at any rate every night.
We stayed up till twelve o'clock to learn as much as we could; then, as the proprietress seemed rather anxious for us to go to bed, we went upstairs and were shown into a fair-sized room with seven beds, low iron bedsteads with wire mattresses, and fairly clean mattress, sheets, and pillows. A woman who had a terrible cold and cough and our Scotch friend came to bed, the latter being comparatively sober, though she had had many drinks that day. Later on the other beds were filled. One had had over eleven shillings in the morning, but seemed to have "got without it." The woman with a cold insisted on having the window closed, and the room was very stifling, otherwise clean and comfortable (compared with some of our experiences); but our companions, some of them, had on filthy underclothing when seen by daylight.
The woman of the house called us about nine o'clock,[112] and we had to get up "willy-nilly." There was a bath-room, with wash-basins and hot and cold water, and we learnt there were some 1_s_. beds with separate washing accommodation.
A woman whose hair was going grey ascribed it to constant dyeing. A young girl had to go to see the doctor.
We found our way to the kitchen and prepared breakfast, securing our knife once more which we had returned. We took our breakfast to the dining-room, where a number of dissolute girls--some handsome, almost all slatternly--were already collected. We saw our young acquaintance of the night before, apparently breakfastless, and invited her to join us, which she gladly did. We learnt that she had had no food the day before, except a drink of tea and a little bread and butter, having had "no luck." Evidently she was starved into prostitution, about which she was still very shamefaced. She had been in several lodging-houses. The town ones were "ten times worse." A private one she had been in one night had had no lavatory accommodation; she had to go and wash at the station, paying twopence. She was afraid to solicit in town; the "bobbies" kept a sharp look-out, and sometimes were in plain clothes. One had stopped her when she was only walking, told her she was on the streets, asked her where she came from, and advised her to go home to her mother. He asked why she was "on the town," and when she told him she had got no work, he said, "You all say that." As she was afraid in the town, she was in the habit of going out to the suburbs. Her friend had quarrelled with her, and even struck her in the street. She was in another lodging-house, and "doing well" on the town.