Part 12 (2/2)
”Then, on the 'Great Day,' when we had our first individual dresses--for before we had always worn uniforms--the men came. They were young military officers and members of the Royal House who are permitted to select girls for their own exclusive love. We were all very shy at first, but many of the girls made friends with the men and some of them went away that first day. And after that the men came as often as they liked and I learned to dance with them, and they made love to me and told me I was very beautiful. Yet somehow I did not want to go with them. We had been told that we would love the men who loved us. I don't know why, but I didn't love any of them. And so the two years pa.s.sed and they told me I must come here alone. And so here I am.”
”And now that you are here,” I said, ”have you not, among all these men found one that you could love?”
”No,” she said, with a tremor in her voice, ”but they say I must.”
”And how,” I asked, ”do they enforce that rule? Does any one require you--to accept the men?”
”Yes,” she replied. ”I must do that--or starve.”
”And how do you live now?” I asked.
”They gave me money when I came here, a hundred marks. And they make me pay to eat and when my money is gone I cannot eat unless I get more. And the men have all the money, and they pay. They have offered to pay me, but I refused to take their checks, and they think me stupid.”
The child-like explanation of her lot touched the strings of my heart.
”And how long,” I asked, ”is this money that is given you when you come here supposed to last?”
”Not more than twenty days,” she answered.
”But you,” I said, ”have been here thirty days!”
She looked at me and smiled proudly. ”But I,” she said, ”only eat one meal a day. Do you not see how thin I am?”
The realization that any one in this scientifically fed city could be hungry was to me appalling. Yet here was a girl living amidst luxurious beauty, upon whom society was using the old argument of hunger to force her acceptance of the love of man.
I rose and held out my hand. ”You shall eat again today,” I said.
”I would rather not,” she demurred. ”I have not yet accepted favours from any man.”
”But you must. You are hungry,” I protested. ”The problem of your existence here cannot be put off much longer. We will go eat and then we will try and find some solution.”
Without further objection she walked with me. We found a secluded booth in a dining hall. I ordered the best dinner that Berlin had to offer.
During the intervals of silence in our rather halting dinner conversation, I wrestled with the situation. I had desired to gain insight into the lives of these girls. Yet now that the opportunity was presented I did not altogether relish the role in which it placed me.
The apparent innocence of the confiding girl seemed to open an easy way for a personal conquest--and yet, perhaps because it was so obvious and easy, I rebelled at the unfairness of it. To rescue her, to aid her to escape--in a free world one might have considered these more obvious moves, but here there was no place for her to escape to, no higher social justice to which appeal could be made. Either I must accept her as a personal responsibility, with what that might involve, or desert her to her fate. Both seemed cowardly--yet such were the horns of the dilemma and a choice must be made. Here at least was an opportunity to make use of the funds that lay in the bank to the credit of the name I bore, and for which I had found so little use. So I decided to offer her money, and to insist that it was not offered as the purchase price of love.
”You must let me help you,” I said, ”you must let me give you money.”
”But I do not want your money,” she replied. ”It would only postpone my troubles. Even if I do accept your money, I would have to accept money from other men also, for you cannot pay for the whole of a woman's living.”
”Why not,” I asked, ”does any rule forbid it?”
”No rule, but can so young a man as you afford it?”
”How much does it take for you to live here?”
”About five marks a day.”
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