"Not know it? Why doesn't she know it? Because she shuts her doors to the men who do know it, and her ears to the cries of his victims. Doesn't every one who cares to look into the crimes in this city know that Coll McSheen is the protector of Vice, and that he could not exist a day if the so-called good people got up and determined to abolish him--that he is the owner of the vilest houses in this city--the vilest because they are not so openly vile as some others? Isn't she trying to sell her niece to an adventurer for a title, or a reprobate for his money?" "Is she?" My blood suddenly began to boil, and I began to get a new insight into Wolffert's hostility. We had turned toward John Marvel's. He appeared a sort of landmark to which to turn as we were dealing with serious subjects, and Wolffert was on his way there when I encountered him. As we walked along, he disclosed a system of vice so widespread, so horrible and so repulsive that I hesitate to set it down. He declared that it extended over not only all the great cities of the country, but over all the great cities of all countries. I related the story the poor girl I had met that night on the street had told me, but I frankly asserted that I did not believe that it could be as general as he claimed. "'Smooth Ally,' was it?" said Wolffert, who knew of her. "She is the smoothest and worst of them all, and she is protected by McSheen, who in turn is protected by clients like The Argand Estate. What became of her?" he demanded. "Why, I don't know. I turned her over to the Salvationists--and--and I--rather left her to them." I was beginning to feel somewhat meek under his scornful expression. "That is always the way," he said. "We look after them for an hour and then drop them back into perdition." "But I placed her in good hands. That is their business." "Their business! Why is it not your business, too? How can you shift the responsibility? It is every one's business. Listen!" He had been recently to southern Russia, where, he said, the system of scoundrelism he described had one of its prolific sources, and he gave figures of the numbers of victims--girls of his own race--gathered up throughout the provinces and shipped from Odessa and other ports, to other countries, including America, to startle one. "Time was when not a Jewess was to be found on the streets; but now!" He threw out his hand with a gesture of rage, and went on. He averred that many steamship officials combined to connive at the traffic, and that the criminals were shielded by powerful friends who were paid for their protection. "Why, there are in this city to-night," he declared, "literally thousands of women who have, without any fault of theirs, but ignorance, vanity, and credulity, been drawn into and condemned to a life of vice and misery such as the mind staggers to believe."