Electronic book host

Garrick gazed long and curiously at an arc-light enclosed in a
soft glass globe in the center of the ceiling, as though it had
suggested an idea of some sort to him.
Miss Lottie, who had left us for a few moments, returned
unexpectedly to find him still gazing at it.
"We keep that light burning all the time," she remarked, noticing
his gaze. "You see, in the daytime we never use the windows. It is
always just like it is now, night or day. It makes no difference
with us. You know, if we ever should be disturbed by the police,"
she rattled on, "this is my house and I am giving a little private
party to a number of my friends."
I had heard of such places but had never seen one before. I knew
that well-dressed women, once having been caught in the toils of
gambling, and perhaps afraid to admit their losses to their
husbands, or, often having been introduced through gambling to far
worse evils, were sent out from these poker rendezvous to the
Broadway cafes, there to flirt with men, and rope them into the
game.


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