To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. “Stupid cow. I should have gone mad without it. I heard only after it was all over. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. What would he come as? Presently she roused herself with a guilty start from the task of dressing and re-dressing Mr. 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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