Love stories; Reformatories -- Fiction; Social classes -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
THE CRUCIBLE
BY MARK LEE LUTHER
_Author of "The Henchman," "The Mastery,"
etc., etc._
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1907
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1907,
BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY.
COPYRIGHT, 1907,
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1907.
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK - BOSTON - CHICAGO
ATLANTA - SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON - BOMBAY - CALCUTTA - MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
To
E. M. R.
AN OPTIMIST
ILLUSTRATIONS
"'A dimple will be a great handicap in my life.'"
"And, among them, Jean."
"'Do you know each other?'"
"Her knight of the forest stood before her."
"She was scoring."
"From that dear shelter she, too, foresaw a kindlier future."
THE CRUCIBLE
I
The girl heard the key rasp in the lock and the door open, but she did
not turn.
"When I enter the room, rise," directed an even voice.
The new inmate obeyed disdainfully. The superintendent, a middle-aged
woman of precise bearing and crisp accent, took possession of the one
chair, and flattened a note-book across an angular knee.
"Is Jean Fanshaw your full name?" she began.
"I'm called Jack."
"Jack!" The descending pencil paused disapprovingly in mid-air. "You
were committed to the refuge as Jean."
"Everybody calls me Jack," persisted the girl shortly--"everybody."
"Does your mother?"
Her face clouded. "No," she admitted; "but my father did. He began it,
and I like it. Why isn't it as good as Jean? Both come from John."
"It is not womanly," said Miss Blair, as one having authority. "Women
of refinement don't adopt men's names."
"How about George Eliot?" Jean promptly countered. "And that other
George--the French woman?"
The superintendent battled to mask her astonishment. Case-hardened by a
dozen years' close contact with moral perverts, budding criminals, and
the half-insane, she plumed herself that she was not easily taken off
her guard. But the unexpected had befallen. The newcomer had given her
a sensation, and moreover she knew it. Jean Fanshaw's dark eyes exulted
insolently in her victory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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