Twenty tales by twenty women: From real life in Chicago — John Shaqi
Twenty tales by twenty women: From real life in ChicagoAnonymous
General
Twenty tales by twenty women: From real life in Chicago
Anonymous
Chicago (Ill.) -- Moral conditions; Prostitution -- Illinois -- Chicago
“That almost killed me; that letter petrified my heart. It took months of
indulgence and constant coaxing for Mr. Singleton to convince me that it
was David’s plan to jilt me.
“‘You don’t know,’ he said, ‘but there is some one else he loves.’
“He besought me to bestow my love on him, but I was true to David. It was
a fact that I had not answered his letter. I simply ignored him. I still
accepted Mr. Singleton’s attentions and allowed him to condemn David, but
it took more than that to cause me to rescind my promise.
“But the time came—it came, too, just as I had arrived at the conclusion
that I could not live longer without David. Of course, I had Mr.
Singleton at my feet making love to me all the time and I think that had
much to do with my endurance in the matter, for when a woman loves a man
and that man for any reason whatever goes out of her life, she can even
appreciate the affection of a good loyal dog. It seems to fill an aching
void, you know.
“As I said, the time came when the last cord of love which bound me to
David was called upon to stand a severe strain. It happened in this way:
There was a party given near our home. I was invited to attend and Mr.
Singleton had insisted on calling for me, but there had happened to be
one girl in the crowd who had made the remark that I surely must be proud
to be able to take up all of Ned Singleton’s time.
“It stung me, and not caring to be the butt of remarks, I declined to go.
I was at home that evening when about ten o’clock Mr. Singleton called.
He apologized for the time and then went on to say smilingly that he
could not resist the temptation of running in just to tell me that David
was at the party with Emma Cline.
“The blood left my face. I could feel the pallor creeping over me, then
with a flash and a horrid thought, I almost screamed:
“‘I don’t believe it.’
“I was now burning up.
“‘Come,’ said Singleton.
“I went, and there through the bright plate glass I could see that the
bad thought of calling Singleton a liar was entirely wrong. David was
enjoying himself with the other young people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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