Kitobdan sitatalar «Martin Eden»

On Friday morning the washer ran. Twice a week they had to put through hotel linen,  – the sheets, pillow-slips, spreads, tablecloths, and napkins. This finished, they buckled down to "fancy starch." It was slow work, fastidious and delicate, and Martin did not learn it so readily. Besides, he could not take chances. Mistakes were disastrous. "See that," Joe said, holding up a filmy corset-cover that he could have crumpled from view in one hand. "Scorch that an’ it’s twenty dollars out of your wages." So Martin did not scorch that, and eased down on his muscular tension, though nervous tension rose higher than ever, and he listened sympathetically to the other’s blas