"
"Yes!" said Jem, catching Mary's sanguine spirit; "she shall go to
America with us: and we'll help her to get rid of her sins. I'll
go now, my precious darling, and if I can't find her, it's but
trying the police to-morrow. Take care of your own sweet self,
Mary," said he, fondly kissing her before he went out.
It was not to be. Jem wandered far and wide that night, but never
met Esther. The next day he applied to the police; and at last they
recognised under his description of her, a woman known to them under
the name of the "Butterfly," from the gaiety of her dress a year or
two ago. By their help he traced out one of her haunts, a low
lodging-house behind Peter-street. He and his companion, a
kind-hearted policeman, were admitted, suspiciously enough, by the
landlady, who ushered them into a large garret where twenty or
thirty people of all ages and both sexes lay and dosed away the day,
choosing the evening and night for their trades of beggary,
thieving, or prostitution.
"I know the Butterfly was here," said she, looking round.
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