Part 78 (2/2)
'That is no asylum. It is a private house.'
'And the lady?'
'Is a lady of private means,' he answered, 'who prefers Bloomsbury to Belgravia, because it is easier to do n.o.ble work in it. Her heaven is on the confines of h.e.l.l.'
'What will she do with those children?'
'Kiss them and wash them and put them to bed.'
'And after that?'
'Give them bread and milk in the morning.'
'And after that?'
'Oh! there's time enough. We'll see. There's only one thing she won't do.'
'What is that?'
'Turn them out again.'
A pause followed, I cogitating.
'Are you a society, then?' I asked at length.
'No. At least we don't use the word. And certainly no other society would acknowledge us.'
'What are you, then?'
'Why should we be anything, so long as we do our work?'
'Don't you think there is some affectation in refusing a name?'
'Yes, if the name belongs to you? Not otherwise.'
'Do you lay claim to no epithet of any sort?'
'We are a church, if you like. There!'
'Who is your clergyman?'
'n.o.body.'
'Where do you meet?'
'Nowhere.'
'What are your rules, then?'
<script>