The idea of your talkin' about dyin'! You look healthier than you ever did in your life, only you're gettin' that set look again about your mouth." "I wonder if I'm growing hard," said Gabriella, stopping to glance in the mirror.

"I suppose that's the problem of life for the working woman--not to grow hard." In some ways, she realized, Miss Polly was right.

She was a handsome woman, as Madame occasionally informed her; but she was no longer shrinking, she was no longer alluringly feminine.
To dress smartly for Dinard's was a part of her work, and she had grown quite indifferent to having men turn and stare after her in the street or when she entered a restaurant.

But the men who stared never spoke to her as they did to Fanny when she was alone.

They regarded her admiringly, but she aroused neither disrespect nor the protective instinct in their minds.