We men are like children. Ann Veronica stared at his foolish, propitiatory smile, his hungry gaze, through one moment of amazement, then stepped aside and went on her way with a quickened step. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. " "Oh, Ruth couldn't put it on paper, to be sure; but there was no reason to hide the source. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was.
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