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It may be worse for you but, as a protest, it is better for society, in the long run. "He pictured to us as truly as he could the life of the street-walker; he did not seem to think that morally it was worse than any other life under our social organisation, but he did not make it seem attractive; nor did he make the life of the domestic servant or factory-girl seem attractive.
He then offered to produce several witnesses against this improbable accusation; but the justice presently interrupted him, saying, "Sirrah, your tongue betrays your guilt. You are an Irishman, and that is always sufficient evidence with me." The second criminal was a poor woman, who was taken up by the watch as a street-walker.
"'You are nothing better than a street-walker. "'You are only a trollop. "'You are a regular strumpet. "And so on, and so on; a sailor could not have said more. "Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, and turned round. It was the other one, the fat woman who had fallen on to my wife with her parasol.
He then offered to produce several witnesses against this improbable accusation; but the justice presently interrupted him, saying, "Sirrah, your tongue betrays your guilt. You are an Irishman, and that is always sufficient evidence with me." The second criminal was a poor woman, who was taken up by the watch as a street-walker.
"Say that again!" she screamed. "I shan't." "You daren't!" "I daren't?" "No, you daren't." "What would you do if I did?" "Say it and see." "You dare me to?" "Yes, you damn beast, to say I'm no better than a street-walker!" "Don't you call me names." "I shall call you what I please, you dirty upstart, to put yourself on a level with ladies like us! We always said you was common."
She was known by the people, and had a character for honesty, so she had no very great difficulty in inducing them to let her have a suit of outer clothes, befitting the wife of a working-man, a black silk bonnet, a printed gown, a plaid shawl, dirty and rather worn to be sure, but which had a sort of sanctity to the eyes of the street-walker as being the appropriate garb of that happy class to which she could never, never more belong.
Your heredity is so loose and on the strength of it one can be so much, everything, that it becomes nothing therefore the consequences which you deduct from it also are based upon nothing. Nana, according to you, is a street-walker, and Angelle is a saint; the priest Mouret is an ascetic, Jacques Lantier a murderer, and all that on account of great-grandmother Adelaïde!
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