“Don’t you believe it, dear,” said the Madonna, “if a man won’t marry you, his mother isn’t likely to take your kid.”

I hoped that the discussion would go further. It was a revelation to me to hear these young unmarried mothers handle the vital things of life with such clear-sighted honesty. It was as though I had come to a new and undiscovered country. We are all of us so fond, in literary circles, of discussing whether the modern woman has any use for love; we are most of us agreed that she has very little for sex! In Mare Street, Hackney, they would stare astonished at such arguments. They know exactly what they risk and why they risk it. And they do not grumble when they get hurt. They do not rebel against their fate, nor very much against the men who get them into trouble. They have the babies⁠—that is enough, and, secure in achievement, they go on with their life.

Apart from her tragedy, the little Jewess was quite helpful. She asked me what I was going to do, and I explained that I wanted a situation as a cook, but that I had no reference.