In the attic of the narrow street, the dust was swept away, and the two rooms—inner and outer—were set up as a bedroom and a living room. In the corner of the living room stood an iron stove, with metal pipes letting the smoke drift out through the window, and a kettle sat on the stove. Jenny went out twice and brought back a large pile of daily necessities. After helping to tidy up the place simply, she led Mrs. Jones and Katie out again. It was nighttime in New York. The three of them wandered around. Jenny took Mrs. Jones downstairs to her dormitory building, pointed out where she lived, and told Mrs. Jones to come find her there if anything came up, or have the doorman pass a message. Then she took her to the nearby vegetable market, seafood market, and general stores, found a butcher shop, and finally picked a restaurant she had eaten at before to have dinner for the three of them. Mrs. Jones saw that Jenny was generous with her spending, ordering roast chicken and mixed vegetable soup, looking like a respectable city person. In the small-town farm, most people didn't eat such a balanced diet; they mostly ate staple foods. "You've been like this since you were little—can't stand a bit of hardship, always ready to enjoy yourself when conditions allow. Katie's the same," Mrs. Jones complained. However, she didn't think a girl needed to save money; supporting the family was the man's responsibility. Jenny wasn't angered by the complaint. She handed the menu to the waiter, turned back to look at her mother, and faced her with an attitude of being impervious to criticism. "Yeah, if I live a better life, I'll have the strength and hope to work. New York is so much fun, but you can't enjoy it without money. I need to earn more." She had been paid yesterday, and including the bonus, she got eighteen dollars. Mrs. Jones frowned. She didn't approve of a girl drifting alone for too long. "If you're not married by your twenties, you'll be an old maid, and people will laugh at you. If you keep drifting like this, I'll break your legs. Since your job pays well now, you should find a man there and get married. Female clerks can't get promoted anyway." Mrs. Jones, living in the town, knew the situation well. Female clerks couldn't get promoted much; at best they became typists. Male clerks could almost always move up step by step within a few years, with their salaries increasing significantly, even becoming middle managers. Jenny sat at the table, holding her cheeks in her hands, silently listening to the lecture, her bright blue eyes rolling around. After the meal, Jenny took Mrs. Jones and Katie home, then walked along the street back to the dormitory. She reached a spot near South Street and saw Polly standing on the corner. She was about to go up, but after two steps, she saw someone in front of Polly—a woman who looked a bit like Polly, a little older, probably Polly's sister. Jenny stepped back and hid. She heard the woman asking Polly for money. Polly looked very resistant. "Didn't I already send half my salary back yesterday? Why isn't that enough?" The woman looked miserable, complaining about how hard it was to raise children alone, and how Polly, with her aunt's help, had attended girls' school and could now earn money, while she struggled. They were sisters; why wouldn't Polly help her? Blocked on South Street, Polly looked around nervously, afraid of being seen by office colleagues with such a shabby sister. She finally gave some money and sent the woman away. Jenny turned and went into a nearby store, browsed for a while, then returned to the dormitory.
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