she felt like the proverbial ugly duckling. Mimi saw without difficulty the motives which inspired Sylvia’s distrust and dislike, but she never hinted even that she understood. Sylvia would have been hurt, pained terribly, had she felt Mimi ascribed her emotions to such sources. But whatever their source, they served as a driving power of tremendous strength in Sylvia’s life. She often told Mimi her plans and dreams, at first shyly, then freely.
“I was born way down on the East Side—father and mother came here from France when they had only one child. I was the third and there were four after me—no chance down there at all. So I made up my mind I was going to get somewhere and I pulled out of that hole and here I am. I had to sew on men’s clothes that mother brought home from the factory—started sewing when I was eight years old. I didn’t get much education, and living down there, I soon lost what little I had, got to talking rough and using slang—oh, you needn’t try to save my feelings—I know I’m rough as a dockhand. But I’m going to night school—and some day I’m going to be somebody.”