f similar familiar badinage
among the men and girls, she instinctively withdrew into herself. She
was not used to this type, and felt that there was something hard and
low about it all. She feared that the young boys about would address
such remarks to her--boys who, beside Drouet, seemed uncouth and
ridiculous. She made the average feminine distinction between clothes,
putting worth, goodness, and distinction in a dress suit, and leaving
all the unlovely qualities and those beneath notice in overalls and
jumper.

She was glad when the short half hour was over and the wheels began to
whirr again. Though wearied, she would be inconspicuous. This illusion
ended when another young man passed along the aisle and poked her
indifferently in the ribs with his thumb. She turned about, indignation
leaping to her eyes, but he had gone on and only once turned to grin.
She found it difficult to conquer an inclination to cry.

The girl next her noticed her state of mind. "Don't you mind," she said.
"He's too fresh."

Carrie said nothing, but bent over her work. She felt as though she
could hardly endure such a life. Her idea of work had been so entirely
different. All during the long afternoon she thought of the city outside
and its imposing show, crowds, and fine buildings. Columbia City and the
better side of her home life came back. By three o'clock she was sure it
must be six, and by four it seemed as if they had forgotten to note the
hour and were letting all work overtime. The foreman became a true ogre,
prowling constantly about, keeping her tied down to her miserable task.
What she heard of the conversation about her only made her feel sure
that she did not want to make friends with any of these. When six
o'clock came she hurried eagerly away, her arms aching and her limbs
stiff from sitting in one position.

As she passed out along the hall after getting her hat, a young machine
hand, attracted by her looks, made bold to jest with her.

"Say, Maggie," he called, "if you wait, I'll walk with you."

It was thrown so straight in her direction that she knew who was meant,
but never turned to look.

In the crowded elevator, another dusty, toil-stained youth tried to make
an impression on her by leering in her face.

One young man, waiting on the walk outside for the appearance of
another, grinned at her as she passed.

"Ain't going my way, are you?" he called jocosely.

Carrie turned her face to the west with a subdu