See paragraph 1. ” “It would be very kind of you,” she declared. “I do not understand. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Martin said “Hi” to her in the halls every day now, a sure sign of trouble. "To those who, like me, have never been able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach it the better.
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