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Of his own certain knowledge he could tell them that. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. The boy would never know just how lucky he was. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal.
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