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window of the store； might be seen a perspiring young man in his shirt sleeves
chalking up baseball scores for the benefit of a crowd below。 Then came the
funereal； liver…coloured； long…windowed Hinckley Block （1872）； and on the
corner a modern； glorified drugstore thrusting forth plate glass baystwo on
Faber Street and three on Stanleyfilled with cameras and candy； hot water
bags； throat sprays； catarrh and kidney cures； calendars； fountain pens；
stationery； and handy alcohol lamps。 Flanking the sidewalks； symbolizing and
completing the heterogeneous and bewildering effect of the street were long
rows of heavy hemlock trunks； unpainted and stripped of bark； with crosstrees
bearing webs of wires。 Trolley cars rattled along； banging their gongs； trucks
rumbled across the tracks； automobiles uttered frenzied screeches behind
startled pedestrians。 Janet was always galvanized into alertness here； Faber
Street being no place to dream。 By night an endless procession moved up one
sidewalk and down another； staring hypnotically at the flash…in and flash…out
electric； signs that kept the breakfast foods and ales； the safety razors；
soaps； and soups incessantly in the minds of a fickle public。
Two blocks from Faber Street was the North Canal； with a granite…paved roadway
between it and the monotonous row of company boarding houses。 Even in bright
weather Janet felt a sense of oppression here； on dark； misty mornings the
stern； huge battlements of the mills lining the farther bank were menacing
indeed； bristling with projections； towers； and chimneys； flanked by heavy
walls。 Had her experience included Europe； her imagination might have seized
the medieval parallel；the arched bridges flung at intervals across the water；
lacking only chains to raise them in case of siege。 The place was always
ominously suggestive of impending strife。 Janet's soul was a sensitive
instrument； but she suffered from an inability to find parallels； and thus to
translate her impressions intellectually。 Her feeling about the mills was that
they were at once fortress and prison； and she a slave driven thither day after
day by an all…compelling power； as much a slave as those who trooped in through
the gates in the winter dawn； and wore down； four times a day； the oak treads
of the circular tower stairs。
The sound of the looms was like heavy rain hissing on the waters of the canal。
The administrative offices of a giant mill such as the Chippering in Hampton
are labyrinthine。 Janet did not enter by the great gates her father kept； but
walked through an open courtyard into a vestibule where； day and night； a
watchman stood； she climbed iron…shod stairs； passed the doorway leading to the
paymaster's suite； to catch a glimpse； behind the grill； of numerous young men
settling down at those mysterious and complicated machines that kept so
unerring a record； in dollars and cents； of the human labour of the operatives。
There were other suites for the superintendents； for the purchasing agent； and
at the end of the corridor； on the south side of the mill； she entered the
outer of the two rooms reserved for Mr。 Claude Ditmar； the Agent and general…
in…chief himself of this vast establishment。 In this outer office； behind the
rail that ran the length of it； Janet worked； from the window where her
typewriter stood was a sheer drop of eighty feet or so to the river； which ran
here swiftly through a wide canon whose sides were formed by miles and miles of
mills； built on buttressed stone walls to retain the banks。 The prison…like
buildings on the farther shore were also of colossal size； casting their
shadows far out into the waters； while in the distance； up and down the stream；
could be seen the delicate web of the Stanley and Warren Street bridges； with
trolley cars like toys gliding over them； with insect pedestrians creeping
along the footpaths。
Mr。 Ditmar's immediate staff consisted of Mr。 Price； an elderly bachelor of
tried efficiency whose peculiar genius lay in computation； of a young Mr。
Caldwell who； during the four years since he had left Harvard； had been
learning the textile industry； of Miss Ottway； and Janet。 Miss Ottway was the
agent's private stenographer； a strongly built； capable woman with immense
reserves seemingly inexhaustible。 She had a deep； masculine voice； not
unmusical； the hint of a masculine moustache； a masculine manner of taking to
any job that came to hand。 Nerves were things unknown to her： she was granite；
Janet tempered steel。 Janet was the second stenographer； and performed；
besides； any odd tasks that might be assigned。
There were； in the various offices of the superintendents； the paymaster and
purchasing agent； other young women stenographers whose companionship Janet；
had she been differently organized； might have found congenial； but something
in her refused to dissolve to their proffered friendship。 She had but one
friend；if Eda Rawle； who worked in a bank； and whom she had met at a lunch
counter by accident； may be called so。 As has been admirably said in another
language； one kisses； the other offers a cheek： Janet offered the cheek。 All
unconsciously she sought a relationship rarely to be found in banks and
business offices； would yield herself to none other。 The young women
stenographers in the Chippering Mill； respectable； industrious girls； were
attracted by a certain indefinable quality； but finding they made no progress
in their advances； presently desisted they were somewhat afraid of her； as one
of them remarked； 〃You always knew she was there。〃 Miss Lottie Meyers； who
worked in the office of Mr。 Orcutt； the superintendent across the hall；
experienced a brief infatuation that turned to hate。 She chewed gum
incessantly； Janet found her cheap perfume insupportable； Miss Meyers； for her
part； declared that Janet was 〃queer〃 and 〃stuck up；〃 thought herself better
than the rest of them。 Lottie Meyers was the leader of a group of four or five
which gathered in the hallway at the end of the noon hour to enter animatedly
into a discussion of waists； hats； and lingerie； to ogle and exchange
persiflages with the young men of the paymaster's corps； to giggle； to relate；
sotto voce； certain stories that ended invariably in hysterical laughter。
Janet detested these conversations。 And the sex question； subtly suggested if
not openly dealt with； to her was a mystery over which she did not dare to
ponder； terrible； yet too sacred to be degraded。 Her feelings； concealed under
an exterior of self…possession； deceptive to the casual observer； sometimes
became molten； and she was frightened by a passion that made her tremblea
passion by no means always consciously identified with men； embodying all the
fierce unexpressed and unsatisfied desires of her life。
These emotions； often suggested by some hint of beauty； as of the sun glinting
on the river on a bright blue day； had a sudden way of possessing her； and the
longing they induced was pain。 Longing for what？ For some unimagined
existence where beauty dwelt； and light； where the ecstasy induced by these was
neither moiled nor degraded； where shame； as now； might not assail her。 Why
should she feel her body hot with shame； her cheeks afire？ At such moments she
would turn to the typewriter； her fingers striking the keys with amazing
rapidity； with extraordinary accuracy and force；force vaguely disturbing to
Mr。 Claude Ditmar as he entered the office one morning and involuntarily paused
to watch her。 She was unaware of his gaze； but her colour was like a crimson
signal that flashed to him and was gone。 Why had he never noticed her before？
All these months； for more than a year； perhaps；she had been in his office；
and he had not so much as looked at her twice。 The unguessed answer was that
he had never surprised her in a vivid moment。 He had a flair for women； though
he had never encountered any possessing the higher values； and it was
characteristic of the plane of his mental processes that this one should remind
him now of a dark； lithe panther； tensely strung； capable of fierceness。 The
pain of having her scratch him would be delectable。
When he measured her it was to discover that she was not so little； and the
shoulder…curve of her uplifted arms； as her fingers played over the keys；
seemed to belie that apparent slimness。 And had he not been unacquainted with
the subtleties of the French mind and language； he
might have classed her as a fausse maigre。 Her head was small； her hair like a
dark； blurred shadow clinging round it。 He wanted to examine her hair； to see
whether it would not betray； at closer range； an imperceptible wave；but not
daring to linger he went into his office； closed the door； and sat down with a
sensation akin to weakness； somewhat appalled by his discovery； considerably
amazed at his previous stupidity。 He had thought of Janetwhen she had
entered his mind at allas unobtrusive； demure； now he recognized this
demureness as repression。 Her qualities needed illumination； and he； Claude
Ditmar； had seen them struck with fire。 He wondered whether any other man
had been as fortunate。
Later in the morning； quite cas