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