eagerly wanted work, and work at Francine’s. Timidly, yet desperately, she emphasized her ability and experience. She clinched her claim to fitness by her training at the Manhattan Trade School, though the diffidence with which she advanced this argument would have defeated its purpose had not there been need of a finisher at Francine’s and a very pressing need on that particular day when Mimi made her application.
Deftly, quickly, she did the work assigned her. From eight-thirty each weekday morning until five-thirty she plied her needle, head bent low at the table given her in the long workroom on the fourth floor. She seldom spoke to any of the other thirty girls except when addressed directly, but she stole many a furtive glance at them, envying their pert assurance, their complete lack of awe at their surroundings save when the eyes of the fitter or a very rare visit from Francine herself hushed their whispered chatter. “Talking and work don’t go together—one or the other will be neglected and always it will be