in face with oil and dust, clad in thin, shapeless, cotton
dresses and shod with more or less worn shoes. Many of them had
their sleeves rolled up, revealing bare arms, and in some cases,
owing to the heat, their dresses were open at the neck. They
were a fair type of nearly the lowest order of shop-girls--
careless, slouchy, and more or less pale from confinement. They
were not timid, however; were rich in curiosity, and strong in
daring and slang.

Carrie looked about her, very much disturbed and quite sure that
she did not want to work here. Aside from making her
uncomfortable by sidelong glances, no one paid her the least
attention. She waited until the whole department was aware of
her presence. Then some word was sent around, and a foreman, in
an apron and shirt sleeves, the latter rolled up to his
shoulders, approached.

"Do you want to see me?" he asked.

"Do you need any help?" said Carrie, already learning directness
of address.

"Do you know how to stitch caps?" he returned.

"No, sir," she replied.

"Have you ever had any experience at this kind of work?" he
inquired.

She answered that she had not.