Women of Courage Read Online Free PDF Page B

breath. But at the same time she felt an enormous sense of shame for Jonathan which said: no one shall ever know about this even if it is true. It is his shame and I shall never betray him.
    It is my shame too . . .
    It was an effort even to stand upright. Very carefully, keeping her poise one step at a time, she pulled the bellrope by the fire, and when her butler came, ordered tea. Then, as she and Mrs Watson sat drinking it, she forced herself to discuss the ordinary business of the day — subscriptions, replies to letters, arrangements for a demonstration next Thursday. The conversation seemed far away, trivial, a discussion between dolls in a children’s puppet theatre.
    All the time the words of the letter echoed in her mind. I suppose you know that your friends in the WSPU have been poking their noses in . . . But Sarah did not know. She knew that such work went on but she had deliberately not involved herself in it, because she thought it would be too upsetting, awake too many memories. Now she needed to find out, without letting Mrs Watson know why.
    Casually, she said: ‘I read the other day that some women are investigating prostitution in the East End. Do you know anything of that?’
    Mrs Watson glanced at her in mild surprise, and Sarah thought: Am I so transparent? Did I shout? But it seemed Mrs Watson’s surprise was only transient and she was quite willing to talk about it.
    For some time, she said, ever since the Piccadilly Flat Case last year, the WSPU had been concerned at the outrageous double standards involved in high-class prostitution. In that case, a woman, Queenie Gerald, had pleaded guilty to keeping a disorderly house — a brothel — in a flat in Piccadilly. When the police had raided the place they had found three young girls there, aged 17, 18, and 19, and a detailed ledger explaining how they earned their money. There were also letters, many from a man who lived in the Ritz Hotel, arranging appointments for his clients. As a result of the raid, Queenie Gerald pleaded guilty and was sentenced to three months imprisonment in the second division.
    Several things outraged the suffragettes about this case. Firstly, the fact that it happened at all. Secondly, the fact that the madam of this brothel got off with three months, whereas Mrs Pankhurst, whose crime was to ask for political rights for women, had been sentenced to two and a half years. And thirdly, the fact that none of the girls’ clients, believed to have been rich and famous men in the public eye, had been named at all.
    ‘I remember it, yes,’ Sarah said, ‘Christabel Pankhurst has written a pamphlet about it, hasn’t she? The Great Scourge . But what has that to do with us now?’
    ‘Well, Mrs Becket, since then, several ladies in the Union — my cousin is one of them — have been watching houses which they believe to be bawdy houses. They want to find out how they are run and who uses them. Very unpleasant work — several times they’ve been approached by men themselves.’
    ‘Yes,’ Sarah shuddered. ‘And?’
    ‘Well, it’s hard to find out much. Most of the girls are uncooperative, and when they think we’re watching them they send their bully-boys out to harass our ladies and drive them away. But we’re making progress slowly. One of the things we’d like to find out is who is making a profit and organising it. And another thing . . .’ Alice Watson hesitated, peering at Sarah cautiously over her glasses.
    ‘Yes, go on. What other thing?’
    Mrs Watson sighed. ‘There is a possibility that young children may be involved. Some ladies were watching a house in Hackney last week when they saw a middle-aged woman go in with two little girls, about thirteen or fourteen. She came out half an hour later with the same children dressed in gaudy clothes and feathered hats — not at all becoming. They got into a cab and our ladies tried to follow but they lost it in Kensington somewhere.’
    ‘Children?’ Sarah sat