Sally laughed bitterly. "Take a good look at me, dear--as an exhibit, not as a friend--and tell me honestly whether any man worth having would glance twice at me."
"You can be pretty enough," Miss Spade returned seriously, "when you want to take the trouble--"
"But I don't--ever."
"The more fool you."
"What's the use--on seven a week? What's the good of being pretty in rags like these? It only gets a girl in wrong. I don't care how fetching I might make myself seem--"
"But you ought to."
"Look here; do you know how a reporter would describe me?"
"Of course; 'respectable working girl.'"
"Well, then, men worth while don't run after 'respectable working girls'; they leave that to things who wear 'Modish Men's Clothing'--with braided cuffs and pockets slashed on the bias!--and stand smirking on corners we have to pass going home. Do you think I'd do my hair becomingly, and--and all that--to attract such creatures?"
"So it's abstract man. Thought so!"