Git up, 'orse." And off they rattled through the quiet streets, turning corners and crossing tramlines every fifty yards apparently, and bumping against each other in the most fraternal manner.
Soon the cab pulled up in a narrow, ill-lit street, at the open door of a dingy house.

Instructing the cabman to wait, they hustled upstairs, to be confronted at the top by a man who took a shilling from each, and then was not sure whether he would admit them.

He didn't seem to like their form exactly, and muttered something to a by-stander as they went in.

They saw a long, low room, brilliantly lighted by flaring gas jets.
Down one side, on wooden forms, was seated a row of flashily-dressed girls--larrikin-esses on their native heath, barmaids from cheap, disreputable hotels, shop girls, factory girls--all sharp-faced and pert, young in years, but old in knowledge of evil.

The demon of mischief peeped out of their quick-moving, restless eyes.