The Machine Part 5

JULIA. How do you do, Mr. Hegan?

[They shake hands.]

LAURA. And Mr. Bullen.

BULLEN. [Remaining where he is; stiffly.] Good evening, Mr. Hegan.

HEGAN. Good evening, sir. [Turns to LAURA.] My dear, I finished up downtown sooner than I expected, and I have another conference at the house. I stopped off to see if you cared to come now, or if I should send back the car for you.

LAURA. I think you'd best send it back.

JULIA. Why, yes... she only just got here.

HEGAN. Very well.

JULIA. Won't you stop a minute?

HEGAN. No. I really can't. Mr. Grimes is waiting for me downstairs.

LAURA. [Involuntarily.] Mr. Grimes!

HEGAN. Yes.

LAURA. Robert Grimes?

HEGAN. [Surprised.] Yes. Why?

LAURA. Nothing; only we happened to be just talking about him.

HEGAN. I see.

JACK. [Aggressively.] We happen to have one of his victims in the next room.

HEGAN. [Perplexed.] One of his victims?

JULIA. [Protesting.] Jack!

JACK. A daughter of the slums. One of the helpless girls who have to pay the tribute that he...

[A piercing and terrifying scream is heard off right.]

JULIA. Annie!

[Runs off.]

HEGAN. What's that?

[The screams continue.]

JULIA. [Off.] Help! Help!

[Jack, who is nearest, leaps toward the door; but, before he can reach it, it is flung violently open.]

ANNIE. [Enters, delirious, her bare arms and throat covered with bruises, her hair loose, and her aspect wild; an Irish peasant girl, aged twenty.] No! No! Let me go!

[Rushes into the opposite corner, and cowers in terror.]

JULIA. [Following her.] Annie! Annie!

ANNIE. [Flings her off, and stretches out her arms.] What do you want with me? Help! Help! I won't do it! I won't stay! Let me alone!

[Wild and frantic sobbing.]

JULIA. Annie, dear! Annie! Look at me! Don't you know me? I'm Julia!

Your own Julia! No one shall hurt you... no one!

ANNIE. [Stares at her wildly.] He's after me still! He'll follow me here! He won't let me get away from him! Oh, save me!

JULIA. [Embracing her.] Listen to me, dear. Don't think of things like that. You are in my home... nothing can hurt you. Don't let these evil dreams take hold of you.

ANNIE. [Stares, as if coming out of a trance.] Why didn't you help me before?

JULIA. Come, dear... come.

ANNIE. It's too late... too late! Oh... I can't forget about it!

JULIA. Yes, dear. I know...

ANNIE. [Seeing the others.] Who?...

JULIA. They are all friends; they will help you. Come, dear... lie down again.

ANNIE. Oh, what shall I do?

[Is led off, sobbing.]

JULIA. It will be all right, dear.

[Exit; a pause.]

HEGAN. What does this mean?

JACK. [Promptly and ruthlessly.] It means that you have been seeing the white-slave traffic in action.

HEGAN. I don't understand.

JACK. [Quietly, but with suppressed pa.s.sion.] Tens of thousands of girl slaves are needed for the markets of our great cities... for the lumber camps of the North, the mining camps of the West, the ditches of Panama.

And every four or five years the supply must be renewed, and so the business of gathering these girl-slaves from our slums is one of the great industries of the city. This girl, Annie Rogers, a decent girl from the North of Ireland, was lured into a dance hall and drugged, and then taken to a brothel and locked in a third-story room. They took her clothing away from her, but she broke down her door at night and fled to the street in her wrapper and flung herself into Miss Patterson's arms.