But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her. Ralph. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears.
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