As she did so, the woman paused in her work and looked up curiously, resting her clenched red fists on the wet cloth she had just drawn from her pail.

She had a broad sallow face, slightly pitted with small-pox, and thin straw-coloured hair through which her scalp shone unpleasantly.
"I beg your pardon," said Lily, intending by her politeness to convey a criticism of the other's manner.
The woman, without answering, pushed her pail aside, and continued to stare as Miss Bart swept by with a murmur of silken linings.

Lily felt herself flushing under the look.

What did the creature suppose?
Could one never do the simplest, the most harmless thing, without subjecting one's self to some odious conjecture?
Half way down the next flight, she smiled to think that a char-woman's stare should so perturb her.

The poor thing was probably dazzled by such an unwonted apparition.