I took her arm.
“You are so kind,” she said. “I was with my sister. I lost her. It was in the crowd. It is so bewildering when I am alone. When I am with her… or my mother … I think I can be all right, but it is different to be alone …”
“Of course,” I said. “I think we could try it now. I’ll hold your arm.”
I took her across. It was certainly a little hazardous even for the sighted.
We had reached the other side. “Do you have far to go?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “If you would just help me along to Greville Street…”
“It is just along here, I believe.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“Do you live in Greville Street?”
“In Grant Street. It is a turning off Greville.”
“I am only too pleased to take you along there.”
“You are so kind. My mother will be very grateful. I must tell her not to scold Sarah. It was not her fault. There were so many people, you see. It is rather bewildering to find oneself alone in the darkness … with noise all around one …”
“It must be. I am so glad you asked my help.”
“People are so kind to those who are afflicted.”
“Here is Greville Street.”
“Would you really not mind taking me along to Grant Street?”
“Certainly I’ll take you.”
“I trust I am not taking you out of your way.”
“That’s of no importance. Oh, here it is.”
“Would you mind taking me up to the door? It’s number nineteen.”
It was a biggish house of three storeys. There were balconies on the first floor and the windows were all discreetly curtained.
“I don’t know how to thank you. Would you mind ringing the doorbell?”
I did so and was about to step back when she said: “Do wait a moment.”
The door was opened by a big man who said: “Oh, there you are, Miss Mary. Miss Sarah’s been back a full fifteen minutes. Your ma was getting worried.”
“This kind lady brought me home.”
“Come in a minute, Miss, will you?”
“There is no need to,” I said. “Miss Mary is now safely home.”
He looked at me appealingly. “The missus will be mad with me if you’re not thanked properly,” he said.
“I have done nothing …”
Mary had taken my hand firmly and pulled me into the hall. The door shut behind us. It had a hollow sound and I noticed there was no furniture in the hall.
“Who is there?” called a voice.
“Come on,” said Mary. “That is my Mama. She’ll want to thank you.”
The big man threw open the door and Mary drew me into a room. It was very sparsely furnished. There was a table with two or three chairs and very little else. At the table sat a woman. I could not see her face very clearly because she had her back to the window but I was beginning to think there was something rather unusual about this household and I experienced the first twinges of apprehension.
On the table before the woman was a tea tray set with cups and saucers. She looked at me with curiosity as I came in.
“This is the lady who brought me home, Mama,” said Mary.
“Oh, how good of you. It is not the first time a kind lady has brought Mary home. Thank you. Thank you. You’ll have a cup of tea, won’t you?”
“I won’t stop now, thanks. I really should not have come in. It was nothing.”
“It was a great deal and you must drink a cup of tea with me or I shall be a little put out.”
“No thanks … please. I must get home.”
“Oh, you are a very fine young lady. That is obvious. And here are we… about to leave our home. Our furniture has gone … or most of it… just a few sticks left. And we shall be going soon. I understand, of course, we are not the kind of people your sort would mix with …”
The big man appeared carrying a pot of tea.
I said: “Oh no … of course not…”
“Then a little cup, eh. Ah, I knew you would … Jacob, take this to the young lady …”
I felt there was something strange about this … something not quite natural…
The cup was put into my hands and my impulse was to gulp down the tea and get out as quickly as I could.
Mary and her mother were watching me; and it struck me that Mary no longer had the look of a blind girl.
As I was about to put the cup to my lips there was a violent ringing of the doorbell. Both Mary and her mother were clearly startled. We all seemed to be listening intently. I heard voices. There was a shout and what sounded like a scuffle … The door was flung open and to my astonishment, there stood the man in the brown beaver hat.
I rose to my feet spilling the tea. I heard myself stammer: “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
He was looking straight at me.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Get out. Get out of my house … whoever you are,” shouted the woman. “What do you want here?”
“I want to know why you have brought this young lady here.”
“How dare you! How dare you!”
He was looking straight at me.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I had set down the cup on the floor. I went to the man. The woman came towards us … so did Mary. They caught at my arm, but he flung them off and pulled me into the hall where the big man was lying on the floor moaning softly.
“Let’s get out of this place,” said the man in the beaver hat.
At the door he turned and shouted: “You’ll be hearing more of this.”
We came into the street. My first feeling was relief to have left behind that room which I now knew to have been evil.
My limbs started to shake. I did not realize until this moment how frightened I had begun to be. There had been an unreality about the entire proceedings—the girl pretending to be blind, the emptiness of the house, the strange almost theatrical atmosphere. I could not imagine what it had meant.
I looked at the man beside me. It was the first time I had been so close to him. He was quite handsome; his features were set in a classic mould; his light brown eyes could be humorous; but at the moment they were full of concern. I had been interested in him from the moment I had seen him. Now I was decidedly anxious to hear more about him.
“That,” he said, “was a most unsavoury place for a young lady of good breeding to find herself in.”
“I don’t understand what it was all about. All I know is that I have to thank you for rescuing me.”
“I was going to ask forgiveness for a certain curiosity, but it really served a good purpose in this instance. Would you like to come somewhere where we could have some refreshment? You need something.”
“Oh no … no … I want to go home.”
“You feel unsafe. I understand that… after what happened. Then I will escort you to your home.”
“Thank you.”
“The streets of London are not safe for attractive young ladies to wander in.”
“I cannot understand what that was all about. The blind girl…”
“Who was no more blind than you or I.”
“Then why … ?”
“She was the decoy. They wanted to lure you to that house.”
“What for? Robbery?”
“I think … perhaps … for something even more serious. I was astonished when I saw you go in that house, Miss er …”
“Frenshaw.”
“That place, Miss Frenshaw, is what is called a house of ill fame. Forgive the term … a brothel.”
“Oh no!”
“Yes, indeed.”
“It was an empty house, I thought.”
“Nevertheless that was what it was. They lured you to it. It is not an unusual practice. They usually trap girls fresh from the country.”