Except a very young girl here and
there all the women had poor or bad skins. And Susan was not
made disdainful by the odor which is far worse than that of any
lower animal, however dirty, because the human animal must wear
clothing. She had lived in wretchedness in a tenement; she
knew that this odor was an inevitable part of tenement life
when one has neither the time nor the means to be clean. Poor
food, foul air, broken sleep--bad health, disease, unsightly
faces, repulsive bodies!
No wonder the common people looked almost like another race in
contrast with their brothers and sisters of the comfortable
classes. Another race! The race into which she would soon be
reborn under the black magic of poverty! As she glanced and
reflected on what she saw, viewed it in the light of her
experience, her fingers slackened, and she could speed them up
only in spurts.
"If I stay here," thought she, "in a few weeks I shall be like
these others. No matter how hard I may fight, I'll be dragged
down." As impossible to escape the common lot as for a swimmer
alone in mid-ocean to keep up indefinitely whether long or
brief, the struggle could have but, the one end--to be sunk in,
merged in, the ocean.
It took no great amount of vanity for her to realize that she
was in every way the superior of all those around her--in every
way except one. What did she lack? Why was it that with her
superior intelligence, her superior skill both of mind and of
body, she could be thus dragged down and held far below her
natural level? Why could she not lift herself up among the
sort of people with whom she belonged--or even make a beginning
toward lifting herself up? Why could she not take hold? What
did she lack? What must she acquire--or what get rid of?
At lunch time she walked with the ugly woman up and down the
first side street above the building in which the factory was
located.
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